


The Old Player in Destiny’s New Game

by Chuda04



Series: The Boundaries of Neutrality [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Merlin (TV)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, BAMF Merlin (Merlin), Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, F/M, Fix-It of Sorts, Friendship, Gen, Humor, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, Secret Identity, continuation of a one-shot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:22:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 22,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27281884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chuda04/pseuds/Chuda04
Summary: Merlin hoped that if he helps with the worst part, then people will take care of the rest of their own mess. However, it turned out the secrets of the new Dark Lord run much deeper than anticipated and he’ll have to stick for a little bit longer this time. Unless the curious teenagers, nosy adults, careless creatures or infuriating portraits drive him nuts first. Well, let the game begin… again.(A continuation of the one shot 'The boundaries of neutrality')
Relationships: Albus Dumbledore & Merlin (Merlin), Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger & Harry Potter & Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Merlin & Harry Potter & Hermione Granger & Ron Weasley, Merlin & Others
Series: The Boundaries of Neutrality [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1991908
Comments: 120
Kudos: 389





	1. A simple plan is not always an easy one

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my continuation of the one shot 'The boundaries of neutrality'! Some of you expressed the hope for a sequel of my previous work, so here it is!
> 
> I have a general scheme of the plot for this story, but because I am really busy right now, the updates may be rather irregular (though I am determined to finish this).
> 
> Though there are some pairings I would mostly keep them canon and they won't be the main focus of the story anyway. Also, more tags will be added with new chapters.
> 
> Anyway, enjoy!
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Merlin.

“No choice? I’ll have you know that I very much have a choice to do with my life what I please,” Merlin hissed indignant at Dumbledore’s words.

“And I completely respect it, however you must admit that leaving now, without a word, would make you… somewhat of a target.” Albus’ tone was illusively placating but after so many years Merlin had no doubt he could hear a strong hint of scheming too.

“A target? Why, exactly? And anyway, I have quite an experience in avoiding the unwanted attention.” Merlin’s brows rose in suspicion, because Albus was definitely aware of this fact.

“An unknown wizard powerful enough to incapacitate Lord Voldemort himself shows up, brings a dead back to life and then just disappears? All of this without even raising a wand? It begs to ask around, do research or try to contact him.” Seeing an answer bubbling in Merlin’s throat he continues immediately, “I can’t cover for you forever, sooner or later one of us will make a mistake. With the whole wizarding world out looking for you, it would be unavoidable.”

“Then I recommend, oh I don’t know, maybe _not_ telling the whole wizarding world what happened here, hmm?”

“I’ve never had that intention, but my peopleat least have already seen you, so have the present Death Eaters.” Albus tried to calmly convince him.

“Because some of most wanted criminals are such a reliable source of information… And if you can’t make your own people keep a secret then-”

“Well, I definitely do not control their every move. And criminals _are_ a reliable source for different criminals IF there’s no other explanation. We’ll sort this out quickly now and you’ll have a problem solved. But I can’t do it alone.” 

However unwillingly, Merlin had to see the point in that. Dumbledore was aware of only a part of his live and would have problems to explain… all of this, appropriately. It was also much easier to stay incognito when no one actually knew of him (or tried to hunt him down). Maybe he should have cared more about the audience earlier… No matter - he would just talk to Albus’ people now, give them a story or another and make his goodbyes. Yes, a good plan is a simple one.

"I hate it when you make sense," Merlin mumbled and got even more irritated when his friend's only response was an amused chuckle.

The only thing he could do now was following Albus and Harry (who did graciously let the headmaster levitate Sirius delicately, but didn't leave his side since) out of the Department of Mysteries and up to the Atrium. Merlin guessed it was only the shock and relief that held Harry back from asking dozen of questions a minute. The boy had shot him a few query looks but that's all. Nevertheless, he was grateful for that, as he had the precious time to spin a believable story for his (previously rather out of public) existence.

Albus probably shared his point of view, as he didn't try to grab his attention either. This way by the time they emerged from the elevators into the main part of the Ministry, Merlin had a more or less coherent plan. Ideally he will be back home with his copy of 'Your Inner Gardener' in hand by midnight.

Seeing the massive number of ministry workers made him quite apprehensive. On one hand, many of them were already busy around the Death Eaters, which could mean a faster end of this silly situation. Though because most dark wizards were still restrained by Merlin's stone bounds that none of them could undone, their job restricted mostly to running around from one Death Eater to another, mumbling in disbelief. On the other hand, the more people, the more witnesses and that was a number Merlin would have preferred to keep as low as possible. He didn’t fancy making himself know to the Ministry – so no chance to talk with the Order now and then. New plan then!

Before the four of them could be seen by the public, he grabbed Dumbledore's upper arm, forcing him to stop and turn around.

"Maybe I can't avoid all the inconvenient questions, but I can definitely avoid the worst of them. So I and Sirius will be waiting for you, hmm... in your office at Hogwarts?"

At his godfather's name Harry looked up in alarm, a disagreement ready to burst out. But when Dumbledore put a calming hand on his shoulder, it died on his lips.

"No harm will come to him, you have my word. You'll see him soon," the old man said softly. The teenager looked torn for a second but then nodded in acceptance.

Merlin shared one last meaningful look with Albus, coming to a silent agreement, grasped the levitating wizard and then both disappeared in a gust of wind.

Arriving at the silent and peaceful chamber made Merlin aware of the headache building quickly at the back of his head. He sighed deeply, giving his unconscious companion a look (after placing him gently in one of the cushioned armchairs).

"That went well."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short chapter as a prologue, just to give you a sneak peak. Next ones will definitely be much longer. Anyway, any comments, advice and constructive criticism are appreciated, especially since English isn't my first language. 
> 
> See you soon!


	2. There are two types of headmasters – the annoying or the scheming

Merlin proceeded to look around the place – it was quite some time since he visited. The amount of different devices and knick-knacks clustered on all available surfaces made Merlin smile. I would seem Albus shared his inclination for accumulating junk, useful or otherwise. His attention was then caught by shushed, but erratic conversations. Groaning inwardly and praying for patience, he faced the wall behind the grand desk.

“Yes, it’s me again. Hi.” His acknowledgement was met with a complete silence and excited gazes from the portraits. “Is responding to a greeting not a social politeness anymore? Gods, I really need an update.”

“Emrys! Welcome! We’re so glad to see you,” one of the previous headmasters called out.

“What brings you here this evening? And your…friend?” Another one made not so subtle inquiry, pointing at the still motionless Sirius. After a second thought, he could have a little fun at the nosy paintings’ expanse…

“Oh, I decided to become a bounty hunter, heard you can make a decent living out of it, and guessed tracking down a wanted escapee could be a good way to start. Brought a body,” Merlin had problems keeping a poker face when, after indicating a passed out but very much alive Sirius, the portraits either gasped terrified or cried out in alarm.

“B-but Emrys! The young Black was actually an innocent man and a member of the Order of the Phoenix!”

Not being able to carry on the joke much longer Merlin burst out laughing. Their indignant voices of worry were amusing but deceiving them any longer would be cruel.

“Calm down, calm down. Everything’s fine, he’s alive and well now. Just tired.”

As if to confirm Merlin’s words, the slack body on the fluffy armchair began to stir. Firstly just a few jagged motions of arms and legs, but then his eyelids fluttered too. After a few blurry blinks Sirius’ eyes at last started to gain more focus. Merlin waited patiently, leaning back on the wooden desk, until the poor man was able to keep them open for longer than 5 seconds.

The groan that escaped from his throat made Merlin cringe in compassion. Coming back from the dead is never a pleasant experience, no matter how it is done. Black clutched his head, massaging his temples to ease down the pain. Finally finding himself in reality again, he raised his gaze and zeroed on Merlin.

“Who are you? What the hell happened?” His voice was hoarse but getting stronger with every word.

“Quite a lot, from what I reckon. But don’t worry, everything’s more or less fine now,” ignoring the first question, Merlin answered the second one slowly, to make sure the confused man understood him.

“Why… What am I doing here?” A hint of suspicion sipped in place of the fast disappearing confusion.

“I brought you here after the… erhm… accident. Oh no, easy, totally ‘Albus approved’. And now, we’re waiting, essentially. How are you feeling?”

“I-I’m not sure… I mean – I’m all right, but my head’s spinning and my arms and legs… they feel kind of strange, like much –“

“Heavier? Yeah, it happens, but should pass in no time. Before others get here you should feel almost considerably better.” Merlin’s assurances visibly helped Sirius relax. Of course until the underlying meaning sunk in to his sluggish brain.

“Others? You mean the Order? The kids? Are everyone safe? When will they get here?”

“Four times _yes_ and _soon_ , I hope. The deal is that they come here right after giving a comment to the beloved political in-crowd. And if you asked me, in their place I’d keep it short.” Merlin ended the response to Sirius’ onslaught of questions with a friendly smile. Noting the paleness of his skin and subtle shivering, he hummed in ponderation. There should be no harm in speeding the process a bit.

Coming closer to the white-faced man, whose eyes were sorely fixed on Merlin, the warlock wove a flame-like sphere of warm light, no bigger than a tennis ball. It floated between Merlin’s hands, bobbing gently.

The room seemed to brighten instantly and the shadows shortened when the ball of light appeared. Merlin approached the sitting man, now staring spellbound at the magical flame, and extended his hand to give him the gift.

“Here, hold it for a while. It’ll help,” he only said.

Sirius raised his cupped hands tentatively, mimicking Merlin’s previous posture. ‘Holding’ was quite a loose term here, because when the warlock pass the sphere on to Sirius, it kept floating a few centimetres above his fingers.

The moment the ball was in his possession, the wizard breathed deeply in with a palpable relief. He gathered it closer to his chest, trying to absorb as much of the soothing energy as possible.

"Thanks, ee..."

"I'm a friend. Of Dumbledore’s," Merlin elaborated when the first sentence was met with expectance only.

"You're another one of his secrets, aren't you?" Sirius asked with a raised eyebrow.

"A back-up plan, apparently." 

A snort from behind made them both look at the portrait of Phineas Black.

"Some back-up plan he found," the late headmaster remarked.

"Something on your mind, Phineas?" Merlin questioned with false pleasantry, shooting him a warning glare. The painted man huffed indignantly but murmured nevertheless:

"Nothing at all, Emrys."

"Emrys? I’ve never heard of you..." Catching out the word, Sirius exclaimed. "What happened back at the Ministry? You mentioned an accident earlier and the last thing I remember is battling my crazy cousin, protecting Harry..."

"Well, you've had the most extraordinary night of your life, I can assure you. But could we maybe wait for others? It would spare me explaining everything twice." They could actually get moving and come here finally. Merlin preferred to spend only as much time in the presence of the inquisitive paintings as strictly necessary.

Merlin then occupied another armchair that stood opposite to the one Sirius was sitting in. Black didn't look to excited for a prospect of waiting but probably decided to go with it for now. At least his skin started to go back to its original colour and the usual spark in his eyes gave him a much more... alive demeanour.

Luckily, they didn't have to stay in the tense silence for much longer, as in a few minutes it was broken by a sudden burst of flame on the perch near the desk. A beautiful red-feathered bird appeared in the flames, crooning softly. Sirius jumped in surprise so violently that Merlin was sure he would fall down from the armchair. The bright sphere in his hands flickered in disapproval of the erratic movement.

The Phoenix flew down onto the back of Merlin's armchair and brushed his head against the warlock's neck. Merlin giggled, amused by the show of affection from the old friend.

"Hey, Faweks, it tickles!" Merlin gave in to the bird's calls for attention after a few moments and scratched its chin. That was seemingly exactly what it wanted, because as soon as the caressing started, the Phoenix's golden eyes shut down in bliss. "Hello to you too, you big baby."

The arrival of the magical creature was apparently a herald of another one, as right then the fireplace in the office lit up with high green flames. Merlin sighed again in preparation, when one wizard after another started emerging from the fire. First a bunch of children - must be Harry's friends - then members of the Order. Dumbledore closed the strange procession and the fire behind him turned back to normal.

Most of the newcomers came to a short stop after noticing Sirius, illuminated by the eerie light held between his hands. A breathing and living Sirius, who was presumed dead by majority of them. A single figure broke out from the small crowd and run in the direction of the sitting man.

Sirius shot up to his legs and alarmed Merlin just in time managed to seize his glowing sphere. Absorbing the light through his skin, the warlock huffed in the direction of Harry in the arms of his godfather.

"Right, please ignore the piece of unique magical energy, it's no big deal."

The exclamation turned all the attention in the room to himself again. Now it was Dumbledore's turn to leave the mass near the fireplace, to stand beside Merlin.

"May I introduce my friend, Master Emrys. On my request he gave us a helping hand today."

"Helping hand? You call disposing a legion of Death Eaters with You-Know-Who at their head a helping hand?" a dark-skinned wizard exclaimed in disbelief, shooting Merlin an incredulous look.

“He did what?” Sirius perked up above Harry’s shoulder.

“Could we please give some attention to the fact that SIRIUS IS APPARENTLY ALIVE? It would be amazing and thrilling news if it wasn’t basically impossible!” a witch with interesting bubble-gum pink hair shouted.

“What are you talking about?” Black was getting more and more confused with every minute. He at last let Harry from his embrace, in order to look expectantly from his friends to Merlin and back.

“Sirius… you got hit with a spell and fell through the curtain in the Death Chamber. You-you died.” Lupin’s voice cracked when he came to put a tentative hand on Sirius’ shoulder, as if afraid his fingers would meet only empty air, instead of his friend.

“It’s all thanks to him. He got Sirius back,” Harry pointed at Merlin with a delicate nod of the head, eyes a bit wet, though the small grateful smile on his face was genuine. Nevertheless, never trust a teenager with any secret. Trying to pre-empt the coming questions, Merlin said quickly:

“He wasn’t fully _there,_ so I didn’t technically get him back. Just righted the Balance… or fixed a mistake, if you wish. That’s all.”

More than one pair of eyebrows furrowed in uncertainty but fortunately Albus cut any doubts short.

“I think it’s time for the students to visit the Hospital Wing. It’s late and I’m certain they need medical attention and their rest. We all do.” A few cries of protest came then, all assuring _they were fine_ , _they want to know_ or something else along these lines. However the present adults apparently remembered about the children and started gathering them out of the room.

“That’s unfair. We have a right to stay and listen too.” A girl with red hair was saying fiercely.

“Miss Weasley, everyone’s tired, so I think it will be best to postpone any meetings anyway.” Merlin narrowed his eyes and shot Dumbledore a suspicious look then. They were supposed to quickly resolve everyone’s doubts, but if he sends them all away… “We’re in no state to tell stories or do questioning. I myself have to go back to the Ministry as soon as possible, Mr Shacklebolt and Miss Tonks undoubtedly too. I just wanted to make it known that everybody ended up safe and relatively unharmed. Everything else will have to wait, unfortunately,” the headmaster informed calmly.

“Ginny, we’re all in a terrible shape. Come on, I’m sure Professor Dumbledore will inform us about everything in the right time.” Another girl, this one with wide dreamy eyes, told her friend resolutely and saying her goodbyes, headed towards the door.

It must have been a sign of a real exhaustion when the other students started going after her, without any more protest. Two of them beckoned Harry to follow but he gave his godfather an indecisive glance. 

“I’ll also get Sirius to the Infirmary and stay with the children, just to watch over for the time being. Inform the families maybe.” Lupin said, immediately catching out Harry’s reluctance to part with the recently (presumably) lost-and-found father figure. Both of them shot him a grateful look and slowly (Sirius was still somewhat weakened) followed the rest to the exit.

After the commotion, caused by everyone leaving the room - some through the fireplace back to the ministry and some through more ordinary means, like _door_ \- only the two oldest wizards remained, standing shoulder to shoulder by the desk. And someone else. Alastor Moody hasn't moved since the time he walked into the office. He hasn't moved his eyes, to be precise. Both of them. From Merlin.

The expectant silence was finally broken by Moody's harsh, conspicuous whisper.

"I do trust your judgement, but I have to ask..." It was hard to determine who he was talking to exactly, what with his steady gaze. It didn't slip Merlin's attention that his hand, hidden behind the front clap of his coat, was also tightly clutched around his wand.

"What is it, Alastor?" Albus prompted, when the man hesitated.

"Who is that? You're no fool, but are you aware that this Emrys is... different?"

"I peg your pardon?!" Merlin exclaimed offended, crossing his arms and turning to Dumbledore. "Always the same. I’ve had enough, we can-"

"Then who are you?! Never in my life have I seen... anything like you. And I don't trust something I don't know. I don't trust an impostor!" Moody’s rant was heated, his voice gaining on strength and volume.

"Alastor-"

"No, Albus. It's fine. I would get suspicious too. I don't need a barrister." Merlin tried to placate the situation. And glancing at the tense auror, he said with a raised eyebrow. "I also don't need to explain myself to you. Excuse me, but it's none of your business. Trust works both ways."

"I will see you in a minute at the Ministry, Alastor," the headmaster's words carried an air of finality and Moody must have caught on that too, because he stepped into the fireplace without any more comments. Though Merlin was feeling the gaze of his magical eye, even after he turned around. Soon, the green flames engulfed him like his colleagues before.

"Charming."

"That's his nature. And I wouldn't change it, even if I could - it was crucial more times I'd like to admit." Albus went round his desk to sit in the high-backed chair, inviting Merlin to take the place previously occupied by unconscious Sirius.

Watching Albus tiredly sink into the padded chair brought a whole lot of memories. It was somehow as similar as alien sight - though with a long white beard, wrinkled face and cracking joints, Merlin still could see in him the eager teen whom he met a few decades ago. The same spark in the eyes, the same stubbornness. But despite all that, the burden of years of loss, responsibility and leadership have left their unmistakable brand, changing him unavoidably. Merlin knew what's it like from autopsy.

"I can't remember the last time, I had so much to say, I didn't know where to begin... Or no, actually, it was probably also on one of our meetings," Dumbledore started with a smile, making the corners of Merlin's mouth rise.

"Have to keep you on your toes. Though it was not boredom that threatened you, from what I see."

"Thank you, Emrys. You've done more that I'd hoped for. Everything has changed - for better, let’s hope - and again I am in your debt," Albus said solemnly, nodding his head in a gesture of respect and gratitude.

"Don't mention it. Keeping the Balance is one of my duties..." Merlin assured him, hoping the thanks are nearing the end - they are always so awkward for Merlin. Hopefully, he could go home soon. "And quit this detective look on your face. No double meaning, no secret to unravel here."

Albus stopped examining him with these light blue eyes of his and took off his glasses. He cleared his throat and with long-time experience he started cleaning them with the corner of his sleeve.

"Yes, as I said - everything's changed, but I'm afraid it's far from being over." Merlin groaned theatrically at his friend's words, making a few portraits snort.

"I swear, one beautiful day I will immobilise all paintings in this blasted castle!" he hissed menacingly, shooting them an angry look, for the second time this evening... or night, or whatever. That luckily shut them up instantly. "Now, Albus, you were saying? What do you mean 'far from over'? The bad guy's caught (and soon kissed by one of the awful creatures they keep as guards), as are his creepy followers. The Balance's fixed, the godfather's rescued... What more could you possibly plan to do now than watch and wait for all this mess to end?"

"Let's just say that I am a bit sceptical about the kissing part... But right now there's no time to elaborate," Dumbledore said mysteriously, putting his glasses back at their usual place on his hooked nose. "I actually do need to go back to the Ministry. And write a few letters beforehand. You're very welcome to join m-"

"Oh, no, no! No chance I'll let myself be hoisted into that again! I had my share of boring official letters in my life, thank you very much." Merlin stood up quickly as if burned, already making his way to the door. Grabbing the knob, he looked back one last time. "And don't think I don't see what you're doing."

"I have no idea what are you talking about." The headmaster's face was a picture of innocence, but Merlin could see the mischievous spark in his eyes, which only spiked his annoyance.

"Yeah, right. Just... sent me the info about the time and place." And with a sigh, accompanied by his friend's quiet chuckle and Faweks’ soft crooning, the warlock was out of the door. As soon as the lock clicked softly behind him, he disappeared in a gust of wind.


	3. Beware of a physician’s wrath

Saying that the previous night turned out not the way Harry expected was the understatement of the century. Waking up in the Hospital Wing, he was still deciding if the whole... incident at the Ministry wasn't just some figment of his crazy imagination. But just the fact that beside him, on the bed to his right, laid his sleeping godfather had to be an evidence enough, right?

Harry reached for his glasses and looked around. He saw all of his peers, which were with him last night, were still sleeping soundly. No surprise there - judging by the pinkish light it must be quite early yet. Thank Merlin, everyone was safe now, including Sirius.

Last night, when the adrenaline wore off, the teenagers felt utterly exhausted, with sore muscles and blown up minds, and some of this tiredness still clung to him. The boy tried to sit up, which proved not to be so simple, as he literally ached all over.

The movement was instantly spotted by the figure sitting on a chair near the big front doors. Remus got up and came closer.

"How are you feeling?" came the standard question, though the worry in Lupin's voice was definitely sincere.

“Fine. A bit sore, but…” he shot a quick glance at Sirius and smiled “happy.”

“I can hardly believe what has happened myself. It seems almost too good to be true,” Lupin said, dark circles under his eyes, but also with a glad smile.

“Yeah, it really does.” Voldemort defeated with practically no casualties? Most of his Death Eaters apprehended alongside him? That was as marvellous as it was unrealistic. It would mean Harry was free and truly safe for… maybe first time in his life.

The first realisations brought the stream of next ones. Could it mean that he would at last be able to live with Sirius? Surely, now they had to acquit him… Harry would leave Dursleys once and for all… Finish school and start his adult life as any other normal teenager, without the mark of ‘The Chosen One’… And all that because…

Right. The young man. How could Harry forget even for a minute about the strange friend of Dumbledore’s. Maybe Harry wasn’t an expert in that field, but even he knew that the magic displayed by this Emrys is an evidence enough of how powerful he was. After second thought, it was kind of worrying that such a powerful figure was unknown to the public… However, Harry couldn’t be anything but glad in that moment that Emrys was on their side. Somehow, despite all uncertainties, Harry didn’t feel threatened by him. In contrary – back in the Ministry, he emanated an aura of protective and calming power.

“Do you think there’s any chance we’ll meet him again?” A hoarse but rather strong voice from his right asked suddenly.

Harry whipped his head to see his godfather’s attempts to sit, just like him a few minutes ago. Remus rushed immediately to help his friend too, though he already looked much better than yesterday. His movements were less sloppy, his eyes brighter. The panic of losing him was receding steadily since last night, with Harry seeing how fast Sirius was gaining his strength. So he easily focused on the question instead.

“Who? Voldemort?” asked Lupin, brow furrowing in confusion.

“Nah, this scum can rot in hell. I mean the wizard Harry’s thinking about.” Of course he knows what’s on Harry’s mind. Although they hadn’t had the chance to spent as much time together as he would like, they understood each other astoundingly well. Sometimes it seemed as if Sirius could read him like an open book. Which was kind of nice, really…

“Emrys? Well, I certainly hope so. I have so many questions!” Another new voice joined the conversation, this time from a bed across the room. Hermione jumped from her bed to come and sit on Harry’s.

Soon everybody else woke up too and the infirmary was full of heated conversations. They reminisced about their battle at the Ministry, the mysterious Emrys and how he was able to… retrieve Sirius. About the official statement that Dumbledore apparently gave this morning at breakfast to students (soon afterwards confirmed by the Daily Prophet). And above all, they relished the thought that it was finally over!

At some point Remus dozed off in his chair and just then Harry (and the others) guiltily realised that he probably stayed awake all night, while the rest of them was sleeping and restoring their strength.

“Damn, it totally slipped my mind. Should we just leave him in peace or…?” Sirius said when they spotted the slumped man.

Without a moment of hesitation Luna got up silently to lean over Remus and, putting a gentle hand on his shoulder, shook him delicately. Tired eyelids rose slowly and an inquisitive ‘Hmm?’ could be heard.

“Professor? Let’s get you into bed, shall we?” Without any protest Remus let himself be led to an unoccupied bed by a much shorter and frailer girl.

“But that just doesn’t make sense. I’ve never heard of anyone performing such complex spells silently _and_ wandlessly,” Hermione picked up their conversation after Remus was soundly sleeping under the covers.

“You don’t know - means no one has,” Ron commented making Hermione blush.

“Oh, stop it. I mean, even Dumbledore is said to have difficulties with doing both at once. And even when he manages it, he has never defeated a bunch of Death Eaters in that fashion alone.

“Maybe he wasn’t alone?” Neville slipped timidly. “Maybe there were whole lot of Emryses, just hidden nearby or something.”

“Like a different organized group?” Sirius enquired but after the affirmative nod from Neville he said doubtfully: “Hmm, I don’t know… Why would his buddies hide in the first place?”

“To intimidate…?” Neville’s voice was full of uncertainty. At last he gave up. “Yeah, you’re right – it’s stupid.”

“No, not at all actually,” Hermione claimed with a renewed enthusiasm. “It’s a good thought. It’s possible be that there were many more wizards in the Ministry who did actual magic and Emrys just played the role of a powerful, seemingly invincible and confident stranger, just to throw You-Know-Who off. I mean – confuse him long enough to overpower him.”

“Blimey, that’s clever,” Ron exclaimed with wide eyes.

"You know, Dumbledore’s Phoenix clearly knew and was fond of him too. Greeted him like an old friend. The light he conjured is also worth a thought." Sirius added. "From the start I suspected something was different about it, but I guessed it must have been some kind of magical flame - to help me heal faster. But then he called it-"

"A piece of unique magical energy," Luna said in her dreamy voice. "And it was really pretty."

"But..." Hermione hesitated for a moment, trying to find the right words. "But that would mean he can just manifest his _own_ magic - physically manifest."

"Maybe he just learnt to do that somewhere," Harry said dismissively. In his opinion making a ball of fire was the least important thing here.

"No Harry, it's not that simple. We say that wizards 'have' magic but it's a generalisation." Aaand Hermione went into full teaching's mode. "We don't possess magic like that, we possess the ability to use it. Magic is all around and we just connect with the channels, shaping it with will. The power of wizard or witch is estimated on how many of these connections are attached to them - and how long they are."

"Because then you have better 'access' to the magic in the earth?" Neville quipped.

"Exactly. Which in turn make using it easier," Hermione confirmed. "But what Emrys said means it was a unique piece of _his_ magical energy, as if he gave a part that resides _inside_ him... which is basically impossible. Again.”

All of them fell deep in thought, trying to make sense of it all. Harry skimmed through the whole conversation in his mind for the second time. It still didn’t all add up.

“Hey guys, there’s one problem though. In the Death Chamber we were alone with him. No more Emrys’… allies _._ Just Dumbledore, me and Emrys. And Sirius, on our way back…” Harry reminded his friends.

“From what you know, Harry. Some of them could follow you. If we didn’t see them in the Atrium, maybe you didn’t spot them there.” Though Hermione’s words made kind of sense, Harry was still doubtful of this explanation. Neither Dumbledore nor Voldemort had seen, even magically hidden, secret wizards? However, his headmaster might have known about them from the very beginning, as he was the one to brought them in the first place. But Harry had watched Emrys’ magic, had felt it work – a concentrated, precise energy, of which the only source was the young man. Still unsure of even his own thoughts, Harry just hummed in acknowledgement.

“Also…” Ron gave him a quick glance, before casting his eyes down and ending in quiet voice: “you still haven’t told us what exactly happened in the Death Chamber.”

Every pair of eyes focused on him in that moment, even Sirius’. Harry felt both the heat under his collar and cold sweat on his temple – what and how should he tell them? The memories flew in his head - of old, ragged and miserable woman, of Bellatrix wriggling desperately in her crushing clutch, of the words spoken in an unknown language… He wanted to tell them the story, but Emrys said it was a secret. Made them _promise_ to keep it _._ That no one, beside them, should know what happened. Harry had already let slip to much – in Dumbledore’s office, when his emotions got a better of him a bit. So he opened his mouth to explain to his friends exactly why he _couldn’t explain._

“Look, I-“

“WHAT IN THE NAME OF HEALER’S HEAD HOSPITAL ARE YOU DOING!” A high shriek from the door made them all jump in fright.

A very, very, VERY upset Madam Pomfrey came running from her adjacent room, obviously having just woken up – the dawn was just breaking. Although Harry was perfectly aware that her appearance meant a solid scolding, a lot of fuming, shooing them all to their respective beds and twice as thorough check-up as usual (in no particular order) he still felt immense relief. The timing of the matron couldn’t have been better – it saved him a lot of awkward excuses and focused his friend’s attention on avoiding having their heads bit off by an overprotective healer. His own too, for that matter.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Because their injuries were nowhere near serious, all eight of them were discharged the nest day (of course after many assurances that they _felt_ _fine_ and _still will be careful for a couple of days_ ). Luna left first with Neville, who wanted to walk her back to the Ravenclaw Tower. Sirius still shouldn’t be seen by the students, so it was settled that he and Remus would apparate to his home at Grimmauld Place.

“Go, I’ll catch you up guys in a sec,” Harry told Ginny and his two best friends. He wanted to have some privacy with Sirius. They understood his intentions at once and left right after making their goodbyes to the two adults. The heavy doors closed behind them with the usual thud.

“How are you planning to leave the castle? Hermione said you can’t use apparition inside its boundaries…” Harry asked and two impish grins appeared in answer.

“Oh please, you’re talking to two of the authors of the Marauders Map. We still remember many secret passages that can take us out,” his godfather said, winking amusedly.

“Haha, right. No need to worry, then.” Harry came closer to give each of them a quick hug (maybe a little bit longer one to Sirius). “We’ll visit you in no time, I hope.”

“Sure thing, Kiddo.” Sirius patted him on the shoulder. “And… I just want to tell you, that I’m really proud of you. Your parents would be too, no doubt. All of this happened, because you thought I was in danger. Because you wanted to help me. Thank you.”

Harry was old enough to admit he was touched with the man’s words. But then some guilt sipped into his mind. “Yeah, but you wasn’t. I let myself be manipulated and put all of you in harm’s way instead. You almost died because of my inability to-”

“Stop it, Harry. Everything turned out alright. And no one can blame you for the urge to help a friend.” Lupin’s voice was barely louder than a whisper, but carried an element of sternness.

“Exactly. You shouldn’t have been put in that situation in the first place. But the important thing is that it’s in the past now, yeah? Water under the bridge.” Sirius got back his usual cheerful demeanour, which made Harry smile, so he nodded his head in response. Maybe they were right – best to focus on the future, not think about the past.

“Okay. Thanks. For everything. See you soon.”

“Might be sooner than you expect,” said Remus with a raised eyebrow. “if I am right…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a filler chapter today but there's need for these ones too sometimes. So what do you think guys?
> 
> See you soon, stay safe!


	4. Too many Riddles can make your head spin

Turned out that Remus had indeed been right, as next afternoon a letter from Dumbledore arrived. If you could say that - Harry just found it lying on his bedside table in the dormitory, when he came back from the dinner. He grabbed the letter, then Ron and went back to the Common Room. Hermione was sitting on one of the sofas, reading a book (of course) and petting Crookshanks. The two boys joined her, so Harry could read aloud the letter without anyone eavesdropping on them.

"Go on Harry, open it." Ron was visibly excited, at least as much as Harry was, and tried to rush him. With one move, Harry opened the envelope and fished out the paper inside. Though Harry instantly recognised Dumbledore's distinctive neat hand writing, the message itself was surprisingly short.

_Harry,_

_I hope you and your friends took all the needed time to restore your strength and energy._

_I am writing to you, because a need for an urgent Order of Phoenix meeting has arisen, which I think you should attend. After Saturday's lunch you, Miss Granger, Mr Weasley and his sister will join Professor McGonagall in her office to leave the castle._

_More detailed explanation will be provided at the meeting and hopefully all remaining questions will be answered._

_Best regards,_

_Albus Dumbledore_

_The Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

"That's it? More like a note than anything..." Ron whispered doubtfully.

"No matter, the important thing is that the Order is meeting again," Hermione said deep in thought. "I mean... Why _urgent_? We basically won, You-Know-Who is in the hands of the Ministry, so what's with the hurry?"

“That’s exactly the problem – the people from our beloved Ministry probably botched something up. It wouldn’t be the first time.” Ron rolled his eyes to show his annoyance, but generally didn’t look too worried. “I say, it’s just to update everyone or meet with this Emrys guy.”

“After all, Voldemort is kept in Azkaban for now… Without his wand and with his magic restrained he can’t pose much of a threat, right?” Harry tried to rationalise, to convince apparently not only his friends, but himself too.

“Yeah, he’s only one guy. The Death Eaters without him are nothing, we saw it after last time. And even You-Know-Who can’t be in a few different places at the same time, can he?” Ron laughed nervously at the end.

“As long as he didn’t get his hands on some time-turner, right Mione?” Harry dunched the witch, smiling mischievously, to which she answered with a blush and a giggle of her own.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Ready? Good." Professor McGonagall stood up and waved her wand to assemble all documents, which she has just been working on, in a neat pile on her desk.

"Before we proceed however, the Headmaster asked me to give you four a little information on-"

"Excuse me, Professor, but why Luna and Neville are not coming with us? They were also in the Ministry..." Harry interrupted, which brought McGonagall's disapproval down on him in a form of narrowed eyes and pursed lips, but instead of the expected admonishment she simply answered the question (must either be in a hurry or have a really good day).

"Miss Lovegood and Mr Longbottom, despite their admirable act of friendship and loyalty, shouldn't be involved in the matters of the Order. They're too young, especially Miss Lovegood, and... considering Mr Longbottom's family history I don't think it would be the best idea anyway." The last part was spoken surprisingly softly. The gentler tone was probably also emphasised by the stark contrast to the Professor's previous stern expression.

Thinking about her words, maybe there were some logic in that. Harry had been more than a little upset since he read the letter - in his mind Neville and Luna deserved to be included in any decision made by the Order. When he noticed only him, Ron, Hermione and Ginny were to attend the meeting, he felt Dumbledore was rather unfair. But listening to the reasoning now, Harry saw that his decision was dictated by care not underestimation. It may have been Mr and Mrs Longbottom's own and willing decision, but it can't be denied that his friend was raised without his parents partly because of their connection to the Order of the Phoenix. It would seem though, that Ginny was set to fight for their friends.

"Luna's my age, so I don't understand why she can't go while I can. And Neville is much tougher than anyone gives him credit for," she huffed disgruntled.

"I do agree with you on that, Miss Weasley. But I also know from my long years of experience that there are some wounds that scar you for life." McGonagall looked directly into the eyes of Ginny, trying to convey the message. Then she added with a small, but visible grimace: "You yourself are allowed to come only because of your parents explicit request. In my mind you're still too young as well."

That statement definitely took both present Weasleys off guard. Mrs Wesley usually was the last person to encourage involvement in any shady or dangerous business, especially when it concerned her children. The news was apparently enough to render them both speechless and – consequently - end any other complains.

"Now, if we had that covered, maybe I can end what I actually meant to say at the beginning?" The Transmutation teacher waited for their nods of agreement, before continuing. "Right then. Professor Dumbledore wanted to make it clear that you are obviously very... uniquely involved in recent events, so he'll naturally help you understand what is going on. However, while you are allowed to attend this Order's meeting, you are still NOT its members." The four of them wanted to voice their heated protests on that, but the Professor didn't give them a chance, carrying on without a pause. "Nevertheless, by a collective decision, we want to give you that opportunity." The tone of her voice clearly betrayed her personal objections to that idea.

"You do?" Ron asked to make sure he didn't mishear.

"Yes. But," McGonagall said emphatically seeing their excited and hopeful expressions. "we need to be sure that you are mature and responsible enough to be a part of such organisation. Your history is full of disobeying orders, breaking rules and acting on your own." All four cringed a little at her awkwardly true words. "There is no place for such... rogue strikes... within an organised and well-working team. The most crucial side of our success, or proper functioning at all, is trust and belief that the other members would stick to the plan and execute their part to the best of their abilities. Taking matters into your own hands could mean putting others at risk. Am I understood?"

Harry and his friends looked between each other, surprised by the solemnity of the impromptu lecture. Within every pair of eyes however burned determination and desire to do their best to help how they could. Coming to some unspoken agreement they turned together to their Professor.

"We'll try not to fall short on your expectations, Professor," Hermione said for all of them. McGonagall actually smiled at her words and... was it pride underneath her next sentence?

"I wouldn't ask for anything less from my Gryffindors. I'm glad you're taking it seriously. It's a good start. Now, come on or we'll be late." With that, she took a reddish pot that stood on the fireplace and grasped a handful of ashy sand. Soon all of them used the Floo to get from the castle to the familiar, if a bit gloomy, kitchen on Grimmauld Place.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

It would seem Dumbledore really didn’t hold back with the invitations. All main members were already present when they came – Kingsley was engaged in an animated discussion with Sirius at the table, Remus and Tonks were apparently sharing a few laughs next to them, Mr Weasley listened to Hagrid, who must have been telling him about some incredibly intriguing (and probably dangerous) creature if his excited gaze and lively articulation were any indication. Harry also saw Mad Eye brooding in one of the far corners of the kitchen, as always keeping his magical eye on everyone and everything. The one person Harry and his friends weren’t so thrilled to see was there too, unfortunately – Snape chose the darkest and farthest seat at the table, keeping to himself. Fred and George were whispering heatedly among each other near the fireplace. Mrs Weasley as per usual was bustling around the room, trying to… do more than a few things at once, apparently. She was also the first one to cry out ‘Finally, you’re here!’ after their entry. 

Although the majority of the present had seen each other just a few days ago, the greetings were very joyful and warm. Harry of course jumped into the waiting arms of Sirius the moment he stepped out of the fireplace, but soon joined Ron and Hermione in hugging or exchanging hellos with others. Harry couldn’t believe how… truly cheerful these people were. Just then he realised how much the fight against Voldemort had affected them, how it had weighted on their shoulders. Through the last year they all progressively focused more and more on getting ahead of their enemy, which had prevented them from finding some joy in the daily life. Everyone had been constantly on edge, worrying about tomorrow. But now, when the fact of the apprehension of Voldemort had the time to sink in, everybody looked and felt differently. The eyes were brighter, smiles broader and moves more energetic. Even Mad Eye’s shoulders seemed to lose some of their constant tension – not completely, but it was a pleasant surprise nonetheless.

Before they even managed to sit down, a sound of someone knocking at the front door ripped through all the ruckus. Mrs Weasley left the kitchen only to bring Professor Dumbledore himself back with her.

“Good afternoon. I’m glad to see everyone’s here already.” The headmaster exchanged polite nods with all of the kitchen’s occupants. There was the first sign that light up a red lamp in Harry’s head – the Professor was clearly disturbed, though he tried to hide it under his usual mask of controlled calmness.

“ _Everyone,_ Albus? You’re sure?” Moody noted meaningfully, but Dumbledore responded only with an inconspicuous hum.

“Come on, Professor. We are all curious about that mysterious friend of yours. Emrys is the expected guest of honour today and most of us speculated he would come along with you,” Arthur Wesley said pointedly, visibly excited to meet the man.

“Oh, doesn’t he have a first name or something? Feels a bit offensive to constantly call him by the surname,” Tonks remarked offhandedly, not really expecting an answer.

“Not that I know of,” Dumbledore said all the same, sitting down at the head of the table in the chair that was obviously left clear for him. His words instantly caught everyone’s attention.

“Excuse me? So you don’t know each other after all?” Lupin asked, confusion written all over his face (and not only his).

“I didn’t say that. I just meant that to my knowledge he’s always been referred to just as Emrys – or more often as Master Emrys.”

“Master of what?” Both twins said at the same time.

“Well, the answer is rather complicated and tricky. You have to understand, Emrys is a very unique character, very unique indeed. Known among different circles and yet a peculiar riddle at the same time.” Dumbledore’s explanation was calm and even, though Harry thought he picked up a bit of hesitation there too, which was interesting in itself – Dumbledore’s never hesitant.

“I would say we all had enough Riddles in our lives,” Moody grunted from his corner, but the headmaster apparently chose to ignore the remark, as he continued:

“You’ll see that Emrys… just _is_. And he _is_ in a most unconventional, bizarre way possible. It’s good to remember that.”

“I say, if yer trustin’ that bloke, Professor, I will trust ‘im too.” Hagrid’s strong voice as always boomed against the brick walls.

A considering silence fell in the room after his words. That must have been the strangest description of a person Harry had ever heard. There was also one more thing that laid heavily on his mind.

“What about his magic? He used it differently, like I’ve never seen before, without a wand-“

“-without incantations-” Hermione added.

“-without moving much at all really-“ Tonks too quipped in. Soon many different voices, belonging to the people who were that day at the Ministry, were speaking over each other. Every next question made the eyes of the others widen more and more in disbelief. Well, Harry probably also would have a hard time believing in the things about Emrys the questions implied.

“All I can say is that Emrys is an incredibly skilled and knowledgeable wizard. His support, if given, would be of great importance in the next few months. And that is the actual subject of our meeting today.” The headmaster said with finality after raising his hand to silence the numerous voices, trying to subtly steer the conversation away from the young mystery-man.

“Convincing Emrys to help us? Isn’t this bloke already on our side?” Ron again wasn’t the only one surprised, but Dumbledore was quick to correct him.

“Master Emrys is usually on none side at all. And no, this is not our focus, Mr Weasley. Not the main one, anyway. I have much more dire news to-“

A sudden strident but monotone tune sounded in the house, closely followed by the ear-piercing shriek of Sirius’ mother portrait. Everyone jumped onto their legs, startled out of their skin. From the hallway the curses and insults could be heard, but the others just like Harry focused on calming down their racing hearts.

Dumbledore was of course the first to gather himself together, so he went through the door, murmuring under his nose:

“Speak of the devil…”

When the rest of them got their pulse under control, they peeked out of the kitchen to see the cause of all the ruckus. The headmaster shut the curtains of the Walburga Black's portrait with a quick flick of his wand without even stopping, cutting out her horrible yells, thank Merlin. Then he proceeded to open the front door, revealing the young man they’d been just discussing. The same mop of black hair, dark cloak and slender build as Harry remembered.

However, Emrys stood at the porch with his arms on the hips, glaring menacingly at Dumbledore. Breathing deeply in and pointing a threatening finger at his face, the strange wizard said disapprovingly:

“That was rude, you know?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So our dear Merlin makes a reappearance! Excited?  
> Also, thank you for all your comments, bookmarks and kudos - they really are the best motivators - and see you soon!


	5. When they say you’re too old for something, prove them otherwise

Not waiting for a response, Emrys squeezed through the gap between Dumbledore and the wall to properly enter the hall. His chatter didn’t stop for one moment.

“I thought that you were past this kind of immature and petty behaviour at your age. Next time you pull something like that I swear I’ll blow you off. Even Robin was disgusted with your stunt. I’m amazed he let you give him that… that _glaring insult to dignity_ at all!” Emrys, spotting the rack, slid off his black coat, revealing a deep red shirt underneath, with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows.

Dumbledore was apparently completely accustomed to such endless babble, because he didn’t even look slightly perturbed. Or maybe he just expected it. Anyway he just showed the way with his hand, steering the man subtly in the direction of the kitchen. When they entered through the door, Emrys sized them all up quickly.

“Hello everyone. Just give me a moment, please,” was all he said, before rounding up on Dumbledore again. “You know, when I asked you to send me the time and place, I thought you would catch up that some additional, even the scarcest bit of info would be appreciated!”

Fuming, Emrys dug a small sheet of paper from the back pocket of his jeans. It was no bigger than a sticky note and had only a few words written on it in the familiar, neat handwriting. It would seem not only Harry got a short information instead of a proper letter. However, by the looks of it, Emrys’ one was still much, much shorter and he obviously didn’t appreciate it. He looked at the paper as if it had offended his whole family (twice – with a _very_ vulgar language) and showed it to Dumbledore like some evidence of a crime.

“I think you may be overreacting a little.” Instead of placating the wizard, Dumbledore’s remark only spiked his temper.

“Oh, you little… That is exactly the most appropriate reaction to a stunt like that! Never in my life – well, maybe the time when I – but just because he was – and I couldn’t really… Anyway, it’s irrelevant now!” Emrys’ prattle was nearing a shocking speed, simultaneously losing any remaining meaning.

“Time was of essence and I decided to save some of it by keeping the message to a minimum,” the headmaster told his friend calmly, trying to cut the nonsense, a tiny smile on his lips. As unbelievable as it may seem, Dumbledore clearly enjoyed this.

“Message? Message?! I would hardly call it a scribble! You didn’t even bothered to write a full sentence – just a date and some address of a godforsaken house hidden behind a silly illusion! Was that another of your great ideas? To irritate me even more by casting some spell over the building?” All of them had to admit though that watching the great Albus Dumbledore be scolded in such fashion by some youngster was quite an experience. “I should just ignore you and not come here at-“

“Then why didn’t you?” Dumbledore asked with a glint in his eye, hands clasped casually behind his back.

“Well, you-“

“It’s not like _I_ have any right or power to summon you anywhere.” Emrys was cut short by the headmaster again, whose eyebrows raised somewhat challengingly. In turn, he squinted at the old wizard, suspicious.

“You know that’s not true. You have every right to ask for my help if you need it. My promise still stands.” Most of the man’s annoyance disappeared, when he voiced this solemn assurance. Harry couldn’t know what promise they were talking about, but it sounded like a serious business.

“Thank you. I’ve rather hoped you’d say that.” Dumbledore was visibly pleased – _the conversation went exactly how he had planned,_ Harry thought. Emrys only hummed in consideration and let himself be led by his friend to the seat at the leader of the Order’s right.

Only once seated the stranger looked around the room again. He tilted his head, skimming the guarded, but intrigued faces.

“There’re more of you,” he said helpfully. He then turned to the Dumbledore with expectant, stiltedly polite smile. “Why are there more of you?”

“I asked the most significant members of the Order to join us for the meeting-“

“I thought we agreed to run a quick questioning session just with the ones from the Ministry,” Emrys hissed accusatorily.

“The circumstances changed…” Dumbledore stated hesitantly. Something had laid heavily on his mind since the moment he stepped into the kitchen. And if his headmaster had reasons to worry, Harry probably should start too.

“Are those changing circumstances behind today’s invitations?” Moody grumbled turning to Dumbledore.

“Could you please take that off me? It’s creeping me out,” Emrys called to the auror, whose magical eye was trained sorely on the mysterious wizard.

“Good.” Mad Eye’s voice carried hints of a smug satisfaction. “I’m not letting you out of my sight until I find out who exactly you are.”

Though everyone was eager to learn more about the figure sitting near the head of the table, Harry was sure Moody’s implication meant more than a simple identity reveal.

“It’s really hard to like you, Mr Moody.” Emrys’ tone was light and he rolled his eyes in mock exasperation, but the subtle warning still could be heard. Harry thought nevertheless that his observation was quite accurate.

“The point however still stands. You’re quite an enigma… Master Emrys.” A cold voice cut the air, causing everybody to turn to its owner. Snape was sitting rigidly in his chair, hands clasped at the table. Emrys seemed not to notice or care about the icy tone as he responded casually.

“Oh, there’s no need to call me a Master. As I keep repeating Albus, I’m not a master of anything. Emrys would do.” He then looked quickly at Snape’s left forearm before flicking his gaze back up to say in quieter voice: “I’m sorry.”

The Potion Master abruptly grasped the place where Harry knew his Dark Mark was, even though his whole arm was covered by the long sleeve of his black robe as usual. He squinted in accusation at Emrys, who however didn't elaborate on the subject in any way.

"Professor said you're quite known among some people. So how is that we've never even heard of you?" deciding to leave the delicate matter alone for now, Tonks asked instead.

"Oh, and what was that magic you used in the Ministry?" one of the twins cut in excitedly.

"How did you managed to overpower You-Know-Who at all?" Mr Wesley couldn't held back his own inquiries.

Soon everyone talked over each other, overflowing Emrys with dozens of questions, which started getting more and more specific and weird. The only two keeping their silence were Dumbledore (he just leaned back in his chair, letting the chaos take over) and the man in question himself, who looked rather overwhelmed with the verbal bombardment. However after a minute or so, he leaped out of his chair.

"HEY! Enough!" It was hard to even call it shouting, as his voice was both human and inhuman. It resonated within the room with an ethereal power, commanding respect and obedience - and he got both, when all of them immediately fell silent and instinctively looked at him in expectance of further instructions. "Sweet Goddess, I can barely hear my own thoughts!"

He took a few calming breaths before continuing in much more controlled tone. "I am here exclusively to explain you some of the stuff that happened a couple of days ago. I even prepared a nice initial speech, something along the lines of 'I am sure you are all full of doubts and question, which I would be happy to' yada yada... I guess it's quite obvious now that you do, but one at a time if you please. It would be easier for all of us, trust me."

After that he simply sat in his chair, massaging his temples. The deafening silence that fell after his words was cut (only after a few stunned moments) by a single voice.

"I took the liberty to check your name in the Hogwarts' archives," McGonagall said in uncharacteristically hesitant voice. She cleared her throat before continuing, to make it stronger. "According to them, no Emrys has ever attended our school. And even if you did go to Hogwarts under different name, I would remember - you're young enough. But I don't."

Emrys was not a Hogwarts' graduate? Where has he learnt all that then? In that case, maybe he was Dumbledore's private student? Or home-schooled? Maybe the British accent fooled them and he simply attended one of the schools abroad.

However, at McGonagall's words both men look at each other knowingly and burst out laughing in unison. Well, Emrys did, while Dumbledore settled on a more subtle chuckle. What’s interesting, just as Emrys' shout had earlier caused a subconscious reaction of alert and wariness, his laugh now collectively raised their spirits, as absurd as it may sound. For it was not the mocking kind of ridicule - just the cheerful and pure amusement. Something about it made the atmosphere around them lighter, the air clearer and the lights brighter. Harry could have sworn that with him the world itself wanted (and tried) to laugh.

McGonagall and a few other adults furrowed their brows in affront, but Harry saw it was more out of habit than of truly feeling piqued by his reaction.

“I do not find anything funny about the situation. The circumstances and reasons of this meeting deserve a little bit more gravity, in my opinion,” Snape, if it was even possible, looked more aggravated than before. The interesting part though was that his seething words implied he knew more than the rest of them. It would seem the Potion Master is as good at sharing information as at expressing random act of kindness. Some of the present also gave Snape an accusatory scowl.

“You’re all reacting strangely at the end of your war. Especially considering that you’re on the winning side.” While talking, Emrys dried his eyes (wet from the guffaw attack) with the back of his hand. “Crazy, the lot of you.”

“It takes one to know one,” Sirius whispered not-so-quietly to Remus, taking in Emrys’ amused expression, reddened cheeks and carefree, slumped position. 

“So what was that about, Headmaster?” Kingsley apparently opted for turning to Dumbledore with questions, maybe acknowledging him as a more… predictable source.

“Well, I suppose it’s partly our fault. We didn’t make it clear at the start, as we probably should. I thought it was rather obvious-” he began the explanation.

“And I didn’t think it was of any importance, really.” Emrys naturally cut in between Dumbledore, who ignored him completely.

“-but I guess it in fact could be a bit misleading.”

“What do you mean, Albus?” Moody had already enough of the mysteries and uncertainty.

When Emrys looked up at him, Harry saw what he was missing all this time. Since the first encounter with the wizard, the boy thought there had been something strange with Emrys’ appearance. The man was in general surrounded by a coat of… oddness, so the detail kept slipping away from him. But now, staring directly into the deep blue eyes of Emrys – eyes carrying too much wisdom and experience, eyes too _old_ for someone in his mid-twenties – he understood. And the realisation came a second before Hermione voiced it, also coming to the same conclusion. She spoke directly to Emrys with trembling words.

“You’re older than Professor Dumbledore…” Through the disbelieving gasps around him, Harry heard the affirmative hum from his Headmaster. “Your knowledge, proficiency in magic, reputation… it all comes from decades of experience.”

“Our paths crossed for the first time when I was barely a teenager, but he looked exactly the same even then.” Dumbledore cleared his throat before continuing, giving the eyes of everyone time to widen comically. “Emrys is at least two or three _times_ my senior.”

The reaction to that statement differed considerably – from stunned silence to nervous giggles. The twins started whispering among themselves fit to burst, Hagrid was close to falling off his chair and Harry was sure he heard more than a few curses. Emrys only rolled his eyes at the dramatic reception of the… news.

“Thank you, Albus, for making me the odd one out yet again. I love the insecure glances, the reserved behaviour. Oh, and the reluctance! Precious indeed!” His words, though dripping with sarcasm, were spoken rather unemotionally – more with an accustomed resignation.

“I wouldn’t worry too much, my friend,” Dumbledore said with a half-smile, also observing the mostly out-of-words audience. “You’ve been doing a great job of that on your own this far.”

If Harry was in the Headmaster place he would cease joking the moment that murderous glare had landed on him. And probably would move to another country with a fake name – _urgently_. Just in case.


	6. For your own good, never assume the outcome of any conversation

“One more question about my age, the reasons why I live so long or look the way I look, _or_ how was the life many decades ago and I’ll zip all your mouths shut forever! Alternatively wipe out your memories about me completely. Seriously people, there are these incredible knowledge sources called _books._ Just go and find one or two about history if you’re so interested in the ages gone.” Emrys was getting more and more snappy with every question. And they didn’t even yet covered the most important ones…

“But over 300 years?!” Ron exclaimed what must have been like a fifth time.

“I’ve never said I’m 300 years old…” the apparently _very_ old wizard muttered tiredly.

“But you didn’t deny it either.” Moody came awkwardly close to him, towering over his sitting figure. “And if you’re not willing to speak about your age-“

“There’s nothing to sp-“

“THEN you can talk about something else. You claim you’re human but _my_ eye and _your_ magic say otherwise.” The Auror pushed through Emrys’ protests mercilessly. The other man breathed deeply and looked up at the ceiling in some silent plea for patience.

“My parents were humans – my mother was even a Muggle, so that makes me a human too, don’t you think?” His irritation was (poorly) masked by a polite façade. “My magic and the rest is completely normal – I was born like this.”

“Normal is the last word I would use here…” Sirius whispered under his breath, adding louder for everyone to hear: “No one here is your enemy, mate, really. We’re just trying to make sense of it, that’s all. With everything we’ve been through you can’t blame us for a bit of caution. It’s hard to trust someone we know nothing about.”

Emrys seemed to fight some internal conflict with himself. Though he had come to dispel the ‘rumours’ about him, he wasn’t sure how much he should… expose himself. After all, from his point of view, he wasn’t here to make friends. He expected a relatively quick chit-chat, in and out – going back to his own life. On the other hand, Dumbledore asked him here for a reason. He knew Albus, he may be a bit unconventional but nowhere near stupid or careless. On the contrary – the headmaster may be one of the most scheming wizards he had ever met. These kind of people always had a plan… and apparently Dumbledore was realising one of his own.

Finally coming to a decision, Emrys run a hand through his hair (messing them even more than they’d already been) and, after sparing a brief but assessing glance at Dumbledore, he spoke to everybody with somewhat akin to resignation.

“All right, I understand. I experienced the trust issues first-hand too. Maybe you do deserve some truth.” He made a pause to see if anyone wanted to say or ask something yet, but when only numerous pair of eyes met him, the man continued. “Okay, so – my magic. You all seem to be very focused on that part. I said it’s normal but maybe a better word would be ‘natural’. The magic I use is roughly the same as yours – the difference is the way I’m using it. My _attachment_ to the Magic of the World is just a bit more, hmm… complicated.”

“Your threads…?” Hermione brought up the magic links she had mentioned a few days earlier in the Hospital Wing.

“Yes, they’re partly responsible.” When Emrys didn’t elaborate any further, Dumbledore decided to clarify his words a bit.

“He has many strong and long threads, which give him a unique perspective and understanding of Magic. Many more above the average.” At that the wizard perked up, shooting Dumbledore a suspicious look from behind narrowed eyelids.

“I’ve never shown you my threads, if my memory serves me right – and it does.”

“You didn’t have to. I’ve seen enough of your magic throughout all these years… on our ‘learning sessions’, shared adventures or talks. I’m capable of coming to my own conclusions based on close observation.”

“Hopefully not too close… You’re a creep, you know that?” Emrys huffed in which Harry presumed must have been a playful manner, as his indignation only made Dumbledore smile mischievously. He then addressed the room in general, pretending not to see the headmaster’s response. “Once, people like me were called warlocks – in the times when different kinds of magic users were universally acknowledged. Depending on the power, the use, the specialty… the names differed. Not everyone was simply a ‘witch’ or ‘wizard’ as it is now.”

“Yes, thank you for this lesson on common knowledge,” Snape hissed venomously. Although, Harry wasn’t so sure how ‘common’ this knowledge was, as he was hearing about it for the first time.

“Whatever, Grimchuff. I’m just trying to be helpful.” While the Potion Master looked scandalized at the nickname, the majority of the room was trying to hold back uncontrollable bursts of laughter. On the other hand, a smug smile appeared on Emrys’ face.

“So you gave us some background about your magic, but you still didn’t really explained the reason for… longer-than-average lifespan,” Kingsley stirred the conversation on the right tracks, to which many nodded in agreement.

“Well, if you can believe it, I myself am not even fully certain why it is as it is. Seriously,” Emrys added, seeing their doubtful expressions. “My best shot is that the magic itself still keeps me alive. It’s not unheard of. Hey, Albus, isn’t that the case with you too? You’re like, what, a hundred and ten?”

“Close enough. But, unlike you, I do look my age,” the headmaster answered with raised eyebrows, when the warlock redirected all the attention on him again. But at the shrewd remark, Emrys just shrugged his shoulders.

“All right, but how did you manage to overpower You-Know-Who in the Ministry – all by yourself? Even with all the… additional… magic threads, facing him and his followers and defeating them so _easily…_ ” Tonks couldn’t fully conceal her amazement and admiration.

“As usual, you people always put so much weight on the pure power – or the potential for it, really. The difference in the strength of magic is just one of many, many factors.” When the man’s words only met expectant silence, he explained additionally, as if it was obvious. “Well, you know – element of surprise, knowledge, experience, strategy, preparation, fast thinking, the surroundings… to name just a few. All that has an impact on the final outcome of a confrontation. And I depended on a few of them too, to gain the upper hand. Not much of a philosophy, in fact.” Harry wasn’t sure if Emrys only tried to make it sound so simple or if it in reality was. Either way, it made (kind of) sense, so Harry decided to delicately ask about the subject he personally was the most interested in.

“What about Sirius? That was the strangest thing I’ve ever seen.” Realising how ungrateful it sounded, Harry quickly started to correct himself. “I m-mean, I am grateful and thank you for what you did, of course. I just – don’t fully understand and the others asked, and Sirius can’t really remember anything too-“

“Whoa-whoa, slow down, Harry. I have already told you the most important parts of that. There’s not really much to add. I only did my duty, with a help from, let’s call it, an old acquaintance of mine. Job done, no side effects,” here Emrys shot Sirius a questioning glance and got a nod in response, so continued smoothly: “so it’s basically end of a story.”

The warlock’s explanation gave them exactly nothing, but they all heard the finality in his voice. There was no further elaborating on that matter. None of them wanted to test their luck, not even Dumbledore, who decided to change the subject entirely.

“As now we have some understanding of Master Emrys, I propose to turn to the crucial part of this meeting.”

Though many of them looked as if they weren’t fully certain of the newest addition to their standard group, they also didn’t show him an outright distrust – for now he was generally accepted. The room decided collectively to rather focus on the words of their leader. Only the warlock himself looked more resigned than determined, preparing probably for news he wouldn’t like. Nevertheless, he didn’t interrupt even once.

“Before I came here, I had attended a Wizengamot assembly. It naturally covered the subject of Lord Voldemort. Or more specifically, his judgement. The final decision is to be published in the morning issue of the Daily Prophet – it’s also going to be executed tomorrow at noon. My friends, the Dark Lord was sentenced to Dementor’s Kiss.” Though death sentences were hardly a joyful subject, almost everyone breathed a huge sigh of relief. How could they not?

The most dangerous wizard of their time, responsible for countless deaths, immeasurable misery and tragedies was going to be finally put down. No matter his power, without his wand (or magic at all – Harry read that he was shackled in magic-restraining cuffs in Azkaban) he wouldn’t be able to do anything against the awful, dark creature. And was it really that strange that all of them craved for safety and end of war, especially when they were so, so close…

Emrys however didn’t apparently share their view. When the Order members started giving each other encouraging smiles, pats on the shoulders or even hugs, he suspiciously glued his sight to Dumbledore, hearing his hesitant and not-at-all relieved tone.

“Why do I have a feeling, these news aren’t as good as they seem?” he asked, trying to keep his voice down. Harry heard him only because he was sitting close to the man.

“Because they’re not.” Many people jumped surprised at Snape’s hard and grounding remark, which flew across the table. Harry had no idea how he was able to catch Emrys’ question from that distance. A spell or charm maybe? Or just Snape being his usual creepy self? Deciding to leave it for later, the boy turned his thoughts on the conversation again. The rest followed in his footsteps.

“I owe you all some explanation. Or at least, you need to know the whole picture, to understand the situation.” Dumbledore’s grim look swept around the kitchen. “Voldemort’s sentence is one of the worst things that can happen now. I would even go as far as to say, it will achieve exactly the opposite of what we hope for.”

_The what?!_ The headmaster’s words stunned them completely. That was not something Harry expected. It was supposed to be the final solution, the happy ending they were all yearning for. An now…

“I’m sorry Albus, but I think you’re tired, overworked or crazy. Or under influence of… someone.” Moody again pinched Emrys down with a deathly glare, who in turn pretended not to notice the hostile behaviour.

“Think Mad-Eye!” It was surprisingly Snape who hissed at the Auror in chastening way. “The Dark Lord has already come back once.”

“Yes, but it’s the Dementor’s Kiss we’re talking about… it won’t only kill his body, but also his soul, so-“ Lupin’s attempt to rationalise was cut off by Dumbledore.

“Only one piece of his soul, I’m afraid.” While his quiet voice was sinking in, making everybody furrow their brows and look anxiously at each other, Emry’s eyes widened in comprehension.

“Bloody hell… Tell me, it’s not what I think it is. Tell me, he didn’t dare to do it…”

“Do what?” Hermione was equally worried and interested, when she turned to ask Dumbledore hesitantly. “What do you mean, Professor?”

“For some time now, I’ve suspected that even before the first war Riddle split his soul. With time, I became more and more sure of it.” The Order’s leader took a deep breath before adding one word. “Horcruxes.”

Reactions to that differed considerably. The present Professors and Aurors either cried in horror or cursed shamelessly. But the rest, among them Harry and other students, Sirius, Hagrid and the Weasleys wondered what even were these ‘Horcruxes’. Harry had a _very_ bad feeling about this…

“Wait, hold on.” Emrys again focused exclusively on Dumbledore, a mix of annoyance and apprehension on his face. “Horcrux _es?_ As in more than one?”

“Yes…”

“Two? Surely not three…?” The warlock asked with a rather nervous laugh.

“No, not three.” At the headmaster’s contradiction Emrys nodded his head in relief, only to shot it up in shock seconds later. “At least six if I’m right.”

“Lîðe Sigorbeorht Îgland…” Harry caught out the strange language among other gasps and curses. Apparently though, not only he was fed up with not knowing what was going on.

“Please forgive us, the ignorant ordinary people-“

“But what in Merlin’s name is a Horcrux?” George ended the sentence started by his twin.

“It’s part of the darkest magic known throughout the history. At the same time, there were only a few instances of actually creating one.” McGonagall, hearing a question asked by a student, hurried with explanation. “It’s a despicable and foul… procedure. In theory, a man can split his soul by an act that completely contradicts his nature and ‘put’ the piece in an inanimate object. And this act… it’s a murder with cold blood.”

“But why would anyone ever do this?” Hermione looked sick at the description alone.

“Because, Miss Granger, that piece of soul is then independent from the body. When a person dies, part of their soul lives on, kept safe in an object. And there are some ways of… making use of that soul.” The Transmutation Professor hands trembled subtly but noticeably.

“So… it basically makes you immortal?” Ron sounded so stunned it was hard to be certain if he intended to ask the question, or if the boy only voiced his thoughts unconsciously. Either way, Emrys answered with a harsh, firm tone.

“No. Such meddling in the essence of being itself is a grave mistake. As your Professor said, only a few people, the most twisted individuals in history, decided it was worth trying, hoping to gain if not immortality – as you think – at least invincibility. But magic and human nature don’t work like that. The cost… the monster you become… No one wants to live that kind of life. The pursuit of immortality is already a stupid and naïve idea and when done in such fashion…” A disgust but also a deep sadness were prominent in his voice. No matter his condemnation, he clearly also simply pitied these men. His last half-whispered sentence was full of almost personal regret though. “But they never learn – they never change…”

“If You-Know-Who managed to create Horcruxes it would explain how he survived his last encounter with death. But Albus… _six of them?_ Tearing a soul into so many pieces…” Kingsley’s face scrunched up partly in disgust similar to Emrys’ and partly in disbelief.

“It seems like he didn’t really use it that much anyway,” the warlock muttered to himself.

“You’ll all have to trust me for now,” Dumbledore said calmly, getting the hold of conversation again. “The most important thing is not to let the sentence be carried out. We have Voldemort captured and under control – though it’s not ideal, it’s better than letting him be Kissed by a Dementor. For him it would only mean escaping us and giving him another opportunity to come back, thanks to his Horcruxes.”

“But if the Wizengamot has already scheduled it – for tomorrow, to make things worse – how can we stop it?” Mrs Weasley, although evidently overwhelmed with the situation, tried to keep a clear head.

“We need time to find and destroy all Horcruxes – only then killing Voldemort would even be possible. Time we now do not have. So we’re going to make use of every little bit of influence we have on the Ministry of Magic to try to postpone the execution. And it has to be done tonight.”

The words of the old wizard settled heavily in everyone’s minds. The cheerful mood from the beginning of the meeting went completely out of window, replaced instead with a familiar feeling of doom and determination. However, after experiencing this fleeting moment of happiness, the crush with reality was oh so much harder and more merciless. Harry’s head was spinning from all the new information, the fact that Dumbledore had been hiding these facts for who knows how long, from the amount of work yet to be done for it to truly be over… Why just once couldn’t it be a simple, straightforward ending?

“Some of you I will ask to accompany me to the Ministry. I know we are all tired to the bone, but we really have little choice.” Dumbledore spoke up again after a moment. When many heads immediately nodded in agreement, he smiled – it wasn’t a happy smile, but definitely a grateful one. Then he turned his eyes on the figure sitting on his right. “Master Emrys-“

“Stop it, Albus.” The warlock raised a hand to cut him off and said solemnly. “This Dark Lord of yours committed more crimes against the Magic and the Balance than I thought. Of course I’m going to help.” Then without a warning he stood up, his chair scraping on the floor (which took a fair number of people by surprise). Then all of a sudden, without further ado he turned on his heel, making a beeline for the door. “So… you guys coming?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for the longer-than-usual gap between updates. I had a crazy week, but I hope the sixth chapter made up for the wait. 
> 
> I'm really curious what do you think about the describion of more 'technical issues' of Magic. Does it make sense? Do you even like such technicalities? They may or may not appear some more in the future...


	7. Is it just me, or do people actually enjoy ruining your plans?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm alive, People! So sorry for the wait, my family and I had a really rough time recently. I'll try to update more frequently, but you know how it is nowadays...
> 
> Anyway, Happy New Year to all of you! I hope you enjoyed it as much as possible, staying safe at the same time.
> 
> Also, two words of explaination on this chapter. As you will probably notice in the chapter, in the talk between Merlin and Albus there are some hints. I just want to make it known that:  
> a) I haven't seen any part of the 'Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them', so whatever events take place there, they are completely ignored in this story. Any knowledge of Dumbledore's past is taken from the books only. Sorry!  
> b) If it comes to Merlin's past, well... As much as I love the series, let's agree that season 5 was a horrid mistake, some kind of a terrible nightmare of our poor Merls ;) My personal headcanon will always include the actual coming of the Golden Age, uniting Albion, legalising magic and all that. And because I can, that's how I portray it here. (I even wrote a reveal fic, which I consider as some prequel to his story, because why not? But it's not necessary to read it or anything, it's just how it fits in my head :P)
> 
> I hope these will help you understand any other hints that may or may not appear in the future chapters. I just felt this needed clarification, but if you still have some questions, please do leave a comment!
> 
> Lots of love and thanks to you all! See you!

Before any of them managed to stand up and catch up with Emrys, the man must have already transported to the Ministry. When Albus, along with Alastor, Kingsley, Tonks and Arthur emerged outside, he was nowhere to be found. Shrugging his shoulders, Dumbledore apparated to the Atrium, which was almost completely empty at this late hour. Hearing a few pops nearby he knew that others followed in his footsteps. However, his attention was almost instantly captured by the only proof of life in the room.

Some commotion could be heard from the Security Check-up point. Even from afar Albus was able to recognise Master Emrys, who was apparently in a heated discussion with the Guard on duty. The Ministry worker was gesticulating animatedly, trying to make his point for sure. Emrys just stood there with his arms crossed, shaking his head. The headmaster was at loss how his friend managed to get himself into trouble so quickly but decided it would be best to help him out before a new kind of mess was created.

Coming closer, he could distinguish the voices of both arguing men. Emrys tried, not for the first time it would seem, to explain something to the guard and keep his patience at the same time. If one was to think about it, he was doing that a lot lately.

“-so unlikely that I would come without it? I don’t have it on me every minute!”

“Yes, it is _very_ unlikely indeed! This whole discussion shouldn’t even be taking place. Every wizard-“ The Guard didn’t finish his sentence, because the warlock interrupted him forcefully.

“That’s my point exactly – it shouldn’t be taking place! Just move aside and let me pass, Sir.”

“I can’t let you pass without checking your wand first! These are the safety procedures. So stop messing around and either fish out your wand, if you want to get an entry, or get lost!” Well, not only Emrys was running low on his patience…

“I can’t because, as I’ve already said three times, _I left it at home_! I won’t go back there to fetch it just so you could look at it! I am in somewhat of a hurry, you see.”

“Don’t lie to me boy! No one leaves their-“

“Is there a problem? What’s happening here?” Albus cut them both off, standing next to Emrys. He looked expectantly at the Guard with a gentle smile, while the others positioned themselves a bit hesitantly behind them in a light arch.

The poor man looked startled at the sudden appearance of so many well-known personalities. He was at a loss for words for a moment, but quickly put himself together, turning to Albus.

“Professor Dumbledore! Good evening. What brings you to the Ministry of Magic at this hour?”

“We – and our friend here – have a pressing business to attend to. We would hate to-“

“Oh, so this young man is with you?” The Guard became more and more sheepish. Not daring to try his luck with one of the most influential people in the Magical World, he stuttered out awkwardly: “Well, if you vouch for him, I could make an exception… O-of course, I would need to check your wands first…”

“Naturally.” Without further ado Albus and his companions passed their wands for the routine check-up of identity and were allowed to carry on (with Master Emrys) in no time. The warlock rolled his eyes visibly, muttering under his breath.

“ _Young man…_ I swear, one day I would just go mad. To look down on me only because of the age-“

“He looked down on you because you don’t carry a wand with you, like a reckless young man.” Albus clarified for him with an amused smile. That made Emrys even more irritated.

“It’s not my fault you all have made a habit of bringing these sticks everywhere you go.”

“You don’t have your wand with you? That’s like the first thing they teach you at school… Isn’t that a bit risky?” Tonks spoke up without hesitation. Excitement of not only a new mission but also additional knowledge of the stranger was emanating from the young Auror.

“Trust me, in my case using one is far more risky. I’m not a great fan of them and the feeling’s mutual. Wands feel like… restraining myself, most of the time. And not needing mine so much, I tend to just…” Emrys trailed of, searching for the right words. Albus, the good friend he was, decided to help him.

“Loose it at every given opportunity?”

“ _MISPLACE_ it from time to time.” The warlock finished emphatically.

Soon, the group broke up into two. Albus decided it would be more beneficial when only Emrys and he paid a visit to the Minister, while others should go to different parts of the Ministry and not only find out about the current situation and preparations for tomorrow, but also check, as subtly as possible, if anyone could be swayed from the initial plan to back them up.

By taking Emrys with him the headmaster hoped Fudge would understood their reasoning faster and easier. After all, his old tutor had an incredible gift of convincing and making people do his bidding without forcing them or, what is even more interesting, sometimes without even them noticing. Must be the years of practice…

“Old Fudge’s still the Minister, right? I haven’t missed anything recently, have I?” Emrys asked, when the two of them headed to the office occupied by the Minister of Magic. The question was more flippant than serious though, as he tried to lighten up the mood.

"Oh, he is, though may not be for very long now." Albus said and spotting the questioning glance of his friend, he explained with a sigh. "Well, with everything that happened in the last few days, there are many voices, even within the ministry, against him holding the post. Some of them even cry out for his immediate abdication."

"Well, from what I gather he messed up pretty badly with not acknowledging the comeback of a _freaking Voldemort_. So I can't say I'm surprised."

"The active fighting against any notion of that on his side only plunged him deeper into the mistrust, although up until the capture of the Dark Lord, the majority of the public shared his views." Dumbledore shook his head with sadness. "But he's the official leader of our world, so of course the main blame is laid on him. Not without good reasoning, too."

"As the leader he should have known better. Or at least listened to people he had trusted and checked the rumours. Not dismissed them just because they were uncomfortable for him." Although Emrys stared ahead when he said that, Albus was sure a glint of another close personal experience shone in his eyes.

“That’s exactly the problem – since Harry told us about the return of The Dark Lord, Cornelius didn’t trust anyone. He became more and more paranoid, thinking it was all a plot against him and his position. He saw enemies everywhere, even in the people that used to be his close confidants. He was drowning in the abyss of the power he wanted to keep.” Hesitating for a moment, Albus shot a quick look at Master Emrys, who was striding purposely but unworriedly next to him. “And not all of us had the luck to be stirred on the right path in similar situation.”

Catching up on his meaning, Emrys stopped abruptly. He turned to him with a warm smile and patted his shoulder, hoping to convey his message. “You did that on your own, my friend.”

“I wish it was true. Without your… firm advice, there’s no telling how I would end up.” Emrys laughed good-naturedly, reassuming his walk again.

“You mean without me calling you and the other boy out on your stupidity?”

“Yes, something like that,” even Albus quirked a smile, but dark thoughts quickly wiped it off his face. “Though I guess it was already too late. For him, at least.”

A quiet hum and even quieter words came back in response. “The decisions he made were his alone. And it’s never too late to start making right choices. Even when it’s hard at the beginning and you have to make hell of an atonement… it’s worth in the end.”

It’s good they were practically at their destination by that point, as Albus had no response of his own to the sudden burst of wisdom from his old friend. Before they entered though, Dumbledore wanted to make clear of yet another issue, of which Emrys should be aware of if they wanted to convince Fudge effectively.

“I’ve just told you about the… fragile state our dear Minister is currently in. And this year showed that he’s not really coping very well under great pressure - he can be somewhat unpredictable, if you will.” Albus started, trying to be delicate but make his point at the same time. “I have no doubts that he’ll try to keep his position and with that may come some decisions or…”

“I get it, Albus. The coward can have some idiotic ideas and we have to a) prevent him from going along with them and b) make him see sense, whatever it takes.” Emrys waved a hand dismissingly. Well, it could certainly be put that way too.

Nodding approvingly, Albus knocked on the heavy, dark door with a golden plaque with carved words:

_Cornelius Fudge_

_The Minister of Magic_

For some decades now Dumbledore had been quite a regular visitor in this office and although the Ministers had changed, the room had stayed roughly the same. Of course some personal details differed but it had never undergone any major redecorations, so when Albus heard a muffled ‘ _Come in!’,_ he entered the room, letting Emrys before him, with respectful confidence. And sure enough, despite his almost year-long absence (Cornelius could be really petty sometimes), it was just as he remembered.

A spacious and plush office was furnished with mahogany shelves, cabinets and two desks, of which the one in the centre was considerably larger. The second, smaller (but littered with the same, if not greater, amount of documents and papers) belonged to the Ministry’s Private Secretary, who was not in the room herself. It was not surprising, considering the hour of their meeting. The floor covered a soft, bottle green carpet, though in the cold light of the desk lamp, the colour was taking an unfortunate, sick appearance.

The man sitting behind the said desk, after looking up and instantly recognising his guests (well, one of them…), took example of his carpet apparently. Fudge was never good with keeping his emotions and feelings in check, not mentioning of hiding them entirely. So the less-than-thrilled expression on his greenish face immediately gave away that he was not only unwilling to meet with Albus, but also actually afraid of it. While Albus took no pleasure in scaring the man, his reluctance to almost literally face his mistakes could definitely be useful in what they were about to do.

“D-Dumbledore!” The short wizard scrambled to his feet, but made no move to leave the impression of safety given by the heavy desk between them. “What brings you here so late?”

“Good evening, Cornelius. I am sorry to disturb you at this hour but I hope you’ll be able to spare a moment for me and my friend here.” The headmaster sounded far from sorry and not really caring if the Minister chose to listen to them willingly or… less so.

But Fudge’s attention was not on Dumbledore’s tone, because when Albus had mentioned a friend, his eyes landed on the third occupant of the room, as if just noticing him. Emrys nodded curtly and gave him a fake smile, simultaneously leaning on one of the many cabinets, trying to appear friendly and nonchalant. The Minister furrowed his brow but nodded back, not really knowing what to make of this young-looking stranger, which made him wary. The headmaster didn’t give him much time to ponder on it though, continuing swiftly.

“We came to talk over an issue, which requires immediate attention.” Deciding to stop beating around the bush, he said pointedly, pining Cornelius with not exactly a hostile, but a serious stare: “Issue concerning Lord Voldemort himself.”

The Minister paled considerably, gulping visibly. An appropriate reaction for a man, who hadn’t believed the Dark Lord was alive a week ago but now had him locked in Azkaban. Trying to cover his nervousness, he fished out a checked handkerchief and wiped his sweaty brow. “Yes, well… I’m surprised you didn’t mentioned it at today’s trial. But anyway, well…”

“It’s rather delicate, even if inconceivably important. I didn’t want to-“ Dumbledore’s well-prepared explanation were cut short by Emrys’ firm statement.

“You’re wrong.” It was not however directed to Albus, but Fudge himself. It would seem the old man was done with pleasantries. Despite his fear, the Minister looked predictably offended and fumed at the presumably younger wizard:

“Who are you to speak to me like that?! A new assistant of yours, Dumbledore? I’m sorry, young man but-!”

“Oh, not yet, you’re not. But you will be soon, I’m sure. Anyway, it was not exactly your fault this time, so just hear us out, before you start arguing,” Emrys said rather unemotionally, as if already tired with this discussion. The somewhat offensive remark about his position and rights hadn’t moved him at all. He apparently had had his fair share of working with characters like Fudge before and they were not pleasant memories. “So, the sentence is a complete mistake.”

It was hard to say if the silence that fell after that statement was born from Minister’s bafflement or injured pride. Judging by the spluttering and moments later Albus would bet on the latter.

“How dare you-! You don’t even-! You-you… HOW CAN YOU SAY THAT?!” If Dumbledore hadn’t known the man as well as he did, he would probably have been worried about the speed at which he was changing colours. From the place where his neck was partially hidden by a collar of his robes up to the balding top of his head, his skin covered in a rich crimson. “I don’t know who is that, Dumbledore, but he must be unbalanced if he thinks that You-Know-Who deserved anything short of a Dementor’s Kiss! And anyway-”

“Cornelius, calm down, please. There is no reason to raise your voice.” Albus tried to appease the paranoid man, hands showing the universal sign of surrender and good will. “Mr Emrys didn’t claim that the Wizengamot’s sentence is unjust, but simply that carrying it out tomorrow as planned will not bring the expected results. And we came here to explain our reasoning, so you could help us prevent another catastrophe.”

Calm and logical words of Dumbledore seemed to break through Fudge’s thick skull at least, as he closed his mouth shut, studying them both in contemplation. The panicked glint in his eye didn’t leave though, if anything it became even more prominent now. He took a minute before saying anything, flexing his fingers and looking around like a spooked animal. But then his resolve hardened and a dreadful feeling sipped into Dumbledore’s heart. Something was about to go very, very wrong.

Abruptly Emrys pushed himself upright, struck by some sudden thought. Before Fudge could give any kind of answer, the powerful warlock pinned him with a murderous glare.

“What do you mean ‘deserved’?” His voice was a deathly whisper. The Minister seemed to shrunk under his menacing presence.

“P-pardon…?”

“You said that Voldemort _deserved_ nothing short of a Dementor’s Kiss… Why the past tense? Tell me you didn’t do anything stupid in so short amount of time.”

“I didn’t _do_ anything! There was an incident!” Fudge burst out, partly offended, partly reluctant. Then he thrown himself into rushed explanations and every next word curdled Albus and Emrys’ blood more and more. “After today’s trial, literally a few hours ago, a dangerous even took place in Azkaban. He, Who Must Not Be Named was furious with the sentence and knowing that his judgement was so close, apparently tried to break free. Even despite the magic-restraining cuffs, he somehow managed to overpower the guards, with help of some of his Death Eaters held as prisoners there, from what has been told me.” The man gulped and cleared his throat, before continuing. “This act of defiance, which nearly ended with his escape had to be stopped. And-and it was stopped the only way possible… One of the Dementors caught him. Not even he could avoid what happened then.”

Dumbledore’s heart stopped and his mind went blank at the confession. His plans, his preparations… it was all for nothing now. They were too late. Despite what Fudge thought, Voldemort escaped them. Again.

While Albus was taking the news silently, staying still and rearranging all his plans to this new situation, Emrys was coping with it rather more… animatedly. When the last words had left Cornelius lips, he gasped and threw his hands in disbelief, then made a move as if he wanted to strangle the Minister with his bare hands and _then_ started pacing around the room, muttering to himself in a language Albus still couldn’t identify. Seeing their distress, Fudge tried to salvage the situation, or more likely – his reputation.

“It was a necessary response, given the circumstances. I was just about to write to you, Headmaster, about all this, when you came in. The official statement would appear in the morning’s issue of the Daily Prophet. But really, if we were to be completely honest, something that was meant to happen tomorrow, just happened today. It’s not ideal of course, but seeing as he was sentenced for a Dementor’s Kiss anyway… maybe it was a curious twist of fate, to take that monster away from us earlier and deny him even a proper execution. Or maybe he just brought that down on himself, oh irony.”

Both old wizards gaped at him then, stunned into silence. Albus couldn’t believe what he was hearing. How everything could go so wrong, so fast? But Emrys must have had enough of this himself, because he shot one last scornful look at the Minister and said with finality:

“You poor, ignorant bastard.”

After that he turned on his heel, and without another word, left the room. The headmaster only shook his head slowly and followed him, never revealing Fudge what they came here for in the first place. Telling him about the Horcruxes now would have been pointless. And the man look like either he had already forgotten or didn’t care at all. He was probably simply glad to have them out of his hair. They didn’t have time for fighting with that kind of stupidity – it was a lost battle anyway.

It was nice to see that Master Emrys had waited for him down the corridor and not transported out of the Ministry already. He _emanated_ frustration and irritation, though he had slipped on a mask of cold determination as soon as he had left the Minister’s office.

“Tell me, what problem does the universe have with plan a? Why does it always crumble like a house of cards and we have to resort to plan b or even plan c every single time?” Emrys asked him, when he was close enough. He must have calmed down considerably, as only resigned acceptance could be heard in his voice – none of the previous anger. “If I were plan a, I would feel affronted.”

“One of the life mysteries that we will never be able to unravel,” Albus said, just as tired. There was so much more to be done… “You think, he told the truth? About not having anything to do with the ‘incident’?” He elaborated, when Emrys only quirked a questioning eyebrow at first.

“Does it matter now? What’s done is done. We have to focus on the important stuff.” The warlock sighed deeply, massaging his temples.

“That we do, my friend. Let’s find the others. No reason to stay here any longer.”


	8. Of eye-popping news and thought-provoking theories

Harry, Ron and Hermione didn’t even manage to go down for breakfast when the news hit them like a speeding hippogriff. The entire Common Room was bustling with a strange mix of excitement and suspicious wariness. When they asked what was the commotion all about, someone just shoved the latest issue of the Prophet into their hands.

Harry would have never expected that the news about death of Voldemort, instead of relief, would bring him only the feeling of dread and frustration. How is it, that every time they are so close, that horrible monster finds a way to win anyway? And make fools of them in the process? Even when almost everybody thinks he was finally defeated, he just runs away God-knows-where to make new plans – to come back and probably create twice as much chaos and destruction.

Harry slowly sunk to the floor, still with the newspaper in hand, but he neither heard nor felt anything that was happening around him. Yesterday on the meeting with the Order he thought he would be free at last. Free of the threat of looming death, of the past that had come time and time again to haunt him, of constant need to look around the shoulder for dangers that want to hurt him and his friends. The Horcruxes were supposed to only be a matter of time, a technicality. And with the Order and Emrys’ combined efforts it surely would have been… But now, Voldemort could not only find another way to come back, but also possibly hide these Horcruxes of his where no one would get to them.

But… the Order… they must know more about this, hell – they must have new plans of action or at least some more information what to do now. And Master Emrys was freaking old and powerful, he surely could help with this mess. Maybe Harry was panicking unnecessarily? They had to find out firstly what had actually happened and secondly what they were supposed to do next.

The boy blinked a few times to get back to reality. Both Hermione and Ron were shaking him and talking to him, probably words of worry or encouragement. Harry stood up quickly, calming his friends with a short ‘I’m fine’. He looked around to see if anyone noticed his strange reaction, but the students that were already in the room were too absorbed with excited discussions, some bordering on celebrating. Which was interesting, as some of them didn’t even believe Voldemort was back until the Ministry had him in its clutches. Harry lost count how many stuttered sorrys he received in the last few days.

No time to loose. Harry’s face hardened in determination and gesturing for his friends to follow him, he left the Common Room through the exit in the Portrait.

“Harry, wait!” Hermione cried after him, while she and Ron tried to match his quick pace. “Where are you going?!”

“Find someone who will tell me what’s going on!”

“And your plan is to what? Barge into Dumbledore’s office, demanding answers? Or maybe we should go to Snape and have a little chit-chat, hmm? Or do have you another brilliant idea of how to act to look even more suspicious after breaking down in Common Room and then storming out as if the Devil himself was chasing you?” Hermione’s voice was full of sarcasm, but also urgency. When they finally managed to catch up with Harry, she grabbed his shoulder to make him stop and turn around. “If we’re in the Order now, we have to act like it, just how McGonagall said. And by that I mean we should wait for information from them. Didn’t it cross your mind that what’s written in the Prophet may be a lie? Or a cover story?”

  
Both Harry and Ron looked at her with raised eyebrows and dumbfounded expressions. Well, of course Harry had quite some doubts about the credibility of the newspaper, but this would be some kind of a new level even for them. Then Ron asked tentatively: “Why would they lie about something like that? It would be a cover story for what exactly?”

The sigh that escaped Hermione’s lips made Harry yet again question his intelligence. His friend was definitely questioning his and Ron’s right now. She tucked a loose strand of her hair behind one ear and coaxed them to move on to the Great Hall (at a much slower pace), explaining on the way in hushed tone.

“Think about it. Even if Wizengamot agreed to our plan, if they managed to convince them, it would be incredibly controversial. Telling the public that ‘sorry, but we aren’t giving the most dangerous wizard, the ultimate criminal, because of whom most of you probably lost some close ones, the sentence he deserves. Why? Well, we can’t tell you that’ would be like a suicide for the Ministry. We obviously can’t share the information about the Horcruxes and any other excuse would sound fake and made-up.” She took a deep breath, before continuing bombarding Harry and Ron with crushing logic. When had she had the time to think about all that? “So maybe our plan still stands, just some cover story had to be made for official record. If V-Voldemort is to be held in the darkest pit in Azkaban throughout the search for his Horcruxes anyway, they could very well said he has been Kissed already. People would calm down, everything would start getting more or less back to normal – which is the first thing the Ministry wants, after their grand screw-up this year.”

After her monologue, Harry found himself literally speechless. That really did made a lot of sense, it even sounded quite probable. But if it was all about the Ministry keeping their face, why would they of make Voldemort’s death a nasty incident?

“Wouldn’t it be better for them to let people think that the sentence was carried according to plan? Like they were in control through it all?” he voiced his doubts, to which Hermione immediately shook her head.

“Not necessarily. At the official… execution,” she scrunched up her face in disgust – no matter how justified the sentence was, the act of destroying someone’s soul repulsed her (well, not only her…) to the bone. “there are witnesses. And with the fact that it’s the Dark Lord we’re talking about, I’m sure, if not at the procedure itself, then at least after there would be press conferences and all that. Generally a big fuss, in which faking the Dementor’s Kiss would be impossible. And by doing what they did – practically no witnesses… quick, clean and quiet.”

“You know, sometimes you’re scaring me. You would be a terrifying villain, you’re aware of that?” Ron said with unmistakable tang of respect and awe at her deducting skills.

“It’s just a theory though. But while we’re waiting for the Order’s insight, the worst thing to do is start running in panic like headless chickens,” Hermione murmured humbly, but blushed at Ron’s _unique_ compliment nevertheless.

“Yeah, you’re right. We shouldn’t act as if we knew more than we should anyway,” Harry agreed finally.

He brushed his messy hair with a hand to ease out some of the tension. He hated being in the dark, not knowing what’s going on – he had enough of it this year. But it’s just like Hermione said, if they wanted to be a part of the Order of the Phoenix, he needed to learn patience. And possibly some trust in other members too…

“Come on, Harry, get yourself together. We’ll be in the Great Hall soon,” Ron brought him back to reality. He was right too – Harry could smell the delicious food prepared for breakfast and hear the buzz (considerably louder than usual) of conversations.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

 _Not_ acting suspicious was a lot harder than they had previously thought. Well, try pretending that you’re as happy and relieved as everyone else, while knowing that one way or another there is no reason to celebrate yet. If what they wrote in the Prophet is true, then they’re basically in square one. And if Hermione’s umbrage turns out correct, there’s still a lot of work to be done before even starting to think about handing Voldemort over to Dementors. So could they join the jolly mood, the cheerful pats on shoulders, genuine smiles, which were the only thing everyone around them could think of. Or – everyone except the trio and the rest of the Weasleys, though Harry thought Fred and George did much better job at false-celebrating. But they were messing around even in the middle of the worst crises. They decided to stay in the school for the last few days of the year after all, even after what they did an the exams. Nobody except Umbridge actually held it against them.

If it came to Umbridge, last Harry had heard about her, she had been found in the Forbidden Forest and taken to St. Mungo’s. And she could stay there for as long as possible, for all he cared. 

While the twins were distracting everyone with their boisterous mood, Harry, Ron and Hermione were taking turns in glancing discretely at the teacher’s table. However, no one of the people they actually hoped to see had showed up yet. Harry expected that McGonagall, Hagrid or Dumbledore would be there to give them _something –_ if not an explanation outright, at least a promise of one. An almost unnoticeable nod, raised eyebrow or anything like that. At this point even Snape would be a welcome sight. If this didn’t show how desperate Harry was then he didn’t know what would. But none of them were even _there_.

Suddenly he felt a strong kick on his shank under the table. He immediately turned to Ron, ready to hiss at him to watch out. His patience was running low as it was, he really didn’t need his friend’s carelessness to add to that, thank you very much.

But as soon as his sight landed on Ron’s face, he stopped before uttering a single word. Wide, surprised eyes were staring somewhere over Harry’s right shoulder. Harry thought for a moment that his friend was ignoring him completely, but a tell-tale headshake told him that Ron tried to discretely show him something. He turned around to glance behind his back, the same way Ron was staring and he at once understood what captured the boy’s attention.

The large door to the Great Hall were wide open as always and a familiar figure was passing through the darker, main corridor on the other side of them. A figure with a mop of black unruly hair and clad in deep blue shirt. His head turned quickly and his face was illuminated by the sun pouring from the many windows, when he briefly looked around the room and long tables without slowing down. It was impossible to mistake these youthful, sharp features. _What's Emrys doing at Hogwarts..?_ Though judging by the direction he was going and the quick, springy step he was actually about to leave. Harry couldn’t let this chance slip away, seeing as it was the first one after quite some time of fruitless waiting. Emrys had to know what was going on for sure…

When the warlock disappeared from the entrance, focused again on his way, Harry stood up from his place, trying to look as if he wasn’t in a rush at all (but they had to _move_ if they were to have any chance of catching up).

“Come on, we need to go,” he whispered to his two closest friends, patting one shoulder of each one. He then smiled, and exchanged see-you-laters with other Griffindors sitting around, praying he behaved normally enough – though he doubted anyone would notice if it was otherwise anyway, because the news of Voldemort’s demise were still clouding everyone’s common sense.

He didn’t know if Ron and Hermione had caught up on his meaning or just trusted his judgement, but for whatever reason he was grateful that they followed him immediately, without further question. The three of them headed to the exit in a quick, though controlled pace. They had a quirky wizard to find…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so more of a filler this time, but sometimes there's a need for these too. At least Hermione had a chance to show off a little bit :D
> 
> Also, I wanted to ask you how much you'd like the rest of the Merlin characters to be... a part of this story? I have two possible paths for the plot and I can't fully settle on one, so I thought asking the Readers might help ;)
> 
> So in your opinion involving some Merlin cast more would be cool or would you rather we stuck mainly to Harry Potter characters plus our dear Merlin? Let me know in the comments, hopefully it'll help me make up my mind!
> 
> See you on the next update!


	9. Even useless things can prove useful… sometimes… by an accident

With every next one, Merlin liked these summons less and less. This time at least was kind of original, he would admit that. He’d been ‘invited’ for a talk in the Headmaster’s Office at Hogwarts, though he had seen Dumbledore just the evening before. However, considering the nasty situation he shouldn’t probably be annoyed – it’s typical for these kind of emergencies. His sleep-deprived mind just refused to acknowledge that. So the two people occupying the spacious chambers witnessed the out-of-nowhere appearance of a clearly irritated and weary warlock. Albus and Snape were in a middle of discussion when a great column of fire burst just beside the heavy desk, startling both of them (though at least Dumbledore should have expected it, really).

Merlin casually waited until the flames around him died down, before moving to pet the Phoenix, who was sitting comfortably (for himself, not for Merlin…) on his shoulder.

“Hello again. Thanks for sending Faweks for me. He’s better than stupid, insultingly short notes,” the warlock said pointedly, while trying to coax the magical creature off his shoulder and onto his perch instead. After a plausible moment of chin-rub bribing, the Phoenix hopped gracefully to his dedicated space, sending Merlin one last jaunty look.

“There are more traditional ways to enter the castle,” Snape snapped as a greeting.

“But this is much more fun, isn’t it, Grimchuff?” Merlin was very proud of how Snape’s eyes narrowed in annoyance at the nickname. Oh, it was definitely going to stick for quite some time.

Albus cleared his throat, capturing their attention, before the conversation could escalate. Spoilsport.

“Thank you for coming at such short notice-“

“Your bird can be quite persuasive…”

“-as we have some matters to discuss. And maybe a proposition too.” Dumbledore’s tone was calm but business-like. He indicated the armchair to his right, inviting Merlin to have a sit. He and Snape were already occupying two other ones.

“So what’s the news?” Merlin prompted after sitting cross-legged on the broad, plush chair – an unusual position maybe but at least comfortable, which was what he needed right then.

“Severus and I were just on about locating the remaining Horcruxes – you see, Severus has been our inside man among the Death Eater for quite some time. But before we go to any of that we think it’s important to do some… checking.”

“Wait, wait. Already a few questions if you don’t mind,” Merlin interrupted Dumbledore, holding up a hand like a schoolboy. “First: checking what exactly? Second: what do you mean by _remaining Horcruxes?_ You’ve found any?”

Dumbledore and Snape looked between each other at the rebuking tone in Merlin’s voice. The warlock saw they were already anticipating his displeasure. Good, that would maybe teach them to bring this things up as soon as possible.

“Well, as a manner of speaking. A few years back there was an incident with Tom Riddle’s diary, which I suspect was one of them. For a few months I’ve been also tracking another one and I’m very close now, I’m sure.” While saying this, Dumbledore reached to the right drawer in his desk and produced a small leather book, with a throughout hole almost right in the middle.

Immediately after lying his eyes on the diary a cold shiver went down Merlin’s spine. The dark magic surrounding the cursed object was only a fraction, an echo of what it must have been when the object hadn’t been destroyed. The warlock made a disgusted face feeling the corrupted, unnatural power. At least there was no mistaking it – definitely a Horcrux.

“I guess this incident you’re talking about is a story in itself and be sure I will ask you to tell me about it,” Merlin tiredly rub his eyes with the thumb and index finger. “I’m glad you managed to destroy it, though. One down, yay,” he exclaimed with as much enthusiasm as he could muster at the moment (which was not very much, obviously).

“Though I am immensely enjoying bringing back the past and closed events, maybe we would leave the bed-night stories for later and now focuse on the matter at hand.” The Potion Master muttered impatiently. Seriously, this man was in dire need of some vacation to cheer him up. Or a dusty attic where he could swing down among his bat friends and get a healthy dose of sleep – whatever worked, right?

“Yes, you’re right Severus. Answering your another question, Emrys – after some talks among the Members of the Order, we decided we should check the truth of Minister Fudge’s words in person. I like to believe in people, but I know that man well – I wouldn’t put past him-“

“Let me stop you right there, Albus.” Merlin rolled his eyes, because _really_?! “What do you think I have been doing the last twenty-four hours or so? Embroidery?”

“We had pretty hectic time recently, I assumed you got some rest. As you should.” Dumbledore regarded him intently then, taking in his admittedly sagged form and pale skin and sighed worriedly. “But you haven’t, have you?”

“Of course not. How could I under present circumstances? I haven’t got a wink of sleep in days, naturally. Well, maybe I did doze off for a while in the Knight Bus, but it turned out I couldn’t find out much there anyway. Shame really, it has proved quite useful many times in the past, you have no idea what rumours you can hear there-”

“To the point if you will.” Snape sounded rather irritated with Merlin’s blabbering but how could anyone blame the ancient man? His mind was switching slowly to power save mode and that was one of the effects. However unfair if felt though, he had to agree with the gloomy Professor, so he got back on the crucial part again.

“I’ve been doing some snooping around on my own, to gather as much information as possible. And, what you would be probably most interested in and also already planning, I paid a visit in Azkaban.”

The barely audible gasps above their heads told Merlin that the portraits were indeed clued in on the current affairs and were listening on their conversation from the beginning. What a surprise. Best strategy for this time (and almost every time) – ignore and continue. The two Professors before him looked at least as surprised as the late headmasters sounded.

“What? A few minutes with this joke of a Minister of Magic convinced me I should confirm his words personally and I reckoned there was no time to lose. So I went to that awful prison to make sure what we are actually standing on.”

“Forgive me, but I find it somewhat hard to believe that in less than a full day you managed to get a permit for visiting the island, which is issued only by the Ministry itself, go there and make a thorough investigation, right with the guards (also Ministry’s workers) and Dementors breathing down your neck.” Snape exclaimed with unconcealed suspicion, his eyes narrowing on Merlin.

“Hmm, yes and no. I’m not stupid enough to ask the Ministry for anything at this point or let anyone know that I was anywhere near Azkaban at all.” Merlin snorted in mirthless amusement. “But the rest is correct. I spent there a few fruitful hours. As fruitful as you may expect, anyway.”

At his words Albus breathed a sigh of relief, nodding approvingly to no one in particular. Then he coaxed the warlock for more details.

“That’ll definitely save us some precious time, thank you. We indeed meant to set up some team to look around the Akzaban and see what they could find. But now, what did you discover?”

So Merlin told them quickly about the unpleasant trip to the magical prison (smartly omitting the parts of _how_ he managed to get on the remote island with anti-apparation charms all around…). Surprisingly or not the Minister had actually given them the truth, or more precisely a bit twisted, uncomplete version of the truth. Voldemort was dead – well, his latest body was. Merlin had to assure them he was completely certain a few times – and he was, considering how he had dug up his shallow grave and found it in a simple coffin on the graveyard behind the tall stone tower of Azkaban. He had checked with his magic for any glamours or enchantments but hadn’t found anything more than a cold, noseless body of the most feared wizard of this century. So _yes_ , he _was_ certain. However, a bit of eavesdropping and creeping around the building had given him a clearer image of what had actually happened that evening. Turned out Voldemort hadn’t been ‘raging about the death sentence’, he had hardly spoken at the trial or after it at all. Bound nonstop in the magic-restraining cuffs he hadn’t posed much of the threat but the guards had been naturally unsettled in his presence. When they had been escorting him to his cell a messenger had approached them, from nowhere else but the Ministry. The man had exchanged a few whispered words with the officer, showed him what must have been an official order or something like that (Merlin hadn’t really bothered to remember all the political jargon). The officer had apparently been rather displeased but carried on with dragging the Dark Lord to the bottom cells, the messenger now trailing behind the group.

There had actually been no accident on the transfer. Lord Voldemort had been locked in his own dark four-walled pit and most of the guards had left on their commanders orders. Only he and the Ministry Official had stayed behind but only to put an end to the whole intricate plan of the Order. A Dementor had been summoned discretely and allowed to enter Voldemort’s cell. Result of which can easily be predicted – this part of the dark wizard’s soul had been stolen by the Dementor in the horrible Kiss.

“So you’re saying that it actually was coordinated by the Ministry? Should have expected that really…” Dumbledore said resignedly. Merlin had also thought he would be angry, but – like him – the Headmaster probably was too tired to curse the recklessness of the politicians. “But I’m sure the real events are kept in the highest secrecy, the guards would hardly know about it, let alone gossip about it. These much detail would be impossible to get from “creeping around” alone… You know I do not doubt you, Master Emrys, but again… Are you completely certain of this?”

If Merlin was to hear another question like this, he will just disappear and let them handle the mess on their own, swear on the love of Camelot. But for now he just counted to ten in his head and answered _once more_ through the gritted teeth.

“Yes, I am. And alright, maybe ‘creeping around’ wasn’t the main thing I was up to. I... acquired… the whole story directly from the officer. Oh, don’t look at me like that! Okay, I admit I may have coaxed him a bit with magic to make him spill the beans. But he’s fine and doesn’t remember our conversation anyway, no harm done. I didn’t like it but sometimes I have no choice.”

Merlin made a face at his own admission. It was true, he had to loosen the commander’s tongue some with a quick spellwork to get everything they needed. It was too close to mind control for Merlin’s liking but searching through his memories or something would be hardly better and additionally could be more dangerous for the man. And going through his mind posed a chance of the warlock missing something or getting the wrong impression. Letting him tell the tale was the most reasonable option.

“I understand, my friend,” Dumbledore assured him honestly. “So to sum up, the Ministry, most likely Fudge himself as such document would require his signature, sent a messenger with an order of discreet but almost immediate execution of Lord Voldemort out of sheer fear for any probable chance of his escape plans before the official execution or even at it, when a follower of his of some kind could slip in among reporters and witnesses. Then they covered it up with the ‘incident’ excuse to wrap it up somehow and put this matter behind them. And now Voldemort’s remaining piece of being has the opportunity and time to come back again. Sweet Founders…” The Headmaster took off his glasses and covered his eyes in disbelief.

“It would be clever if it wasn’t so incredibly stupid, right?” Merlin mocked the Ministry’s actions. Why these kind of people could never think everything through before acting?

“Not only has the Dark Lord the opportunity to come back but also this time he would have prepared beforehand. I’m sure after his last miserable years as a cursed spirit and the hard path of gaining a new body he would have made sure the situation would never repeat. He’s not so reckless not to have a back-up plan twice. Maybe he involved more of his followers this time, maybe he did something with the Horcruxes to help him get another body, hard to say. But his second come back won’t take 13 years, that I am sure of.” Snape’s short tirade was spoken calm but with finality. Albus said the man knew Voldemort, was the spy among the dark wizards, so there was no doubt the threat he was warning them about was very much real.

“That’s why we have to hunt for the Horcuxes as fast as possible. They are the priority now that we know Riddle got away.” Dumbledore’s voice returned to that business-like, determined tones. Apparently he put himself together and thought only on the work ahead again. “Which brings us to the second reason I asked for your presence today, Emrys.”

“Why I have the feeling I won’t like it, huh?”

“Because you’re and a grumpy old man. But I guess it’s somewhat of a private matter, so if you’ll excuse us, Severus?” Albus’s light jab made the corners of Merlin’s eyes quirk a little bit, in contrast to the Potion Master, who looked far from happy to be left out on their conversation. Nevertheless, he got up without a word, nodded curtly to both of them and headed out of the room.

“See you later, Grimchuff!” The only response to Merlin’s goodbye was doors slamming shut with a bang after the clad-in-black, stiff back of the Potion Master.

After the short pause, the silver-haired wizard returned to the subject. “The proposition I mentioned at the beginning… I would like you to teach at Hogwarts the coming year.”

His statement at once prompted excited murmurs from the portraits and an amusedly questioning raised eyebrow from Merlin himself.

“Ha, I see your sense of humour stays sharp even in your old age, Albus. Keep it up, it’s good for general health.” The warlock winked cheekily at the headmaster and stood up, intent on _finally_ putting his head on a pillow. “If you’re excuse me now, I should get going-“

“I’m completely serious, Emrys. The summer vacation are around the corner but there’s no way we’ll manage to find and destroy all the Horcruxes in two months, especially if Riddle guards them better, which he will no doubt do.” Dumbledore was standing now too, locking his gaze with Merlin’s, trying to convey his message. “With the intense hunt, research and protection plans we’ll need you close but simultaneously without raising much suspicions.”

“I _will_ be close! Just sent for me anyway you like and I’ll come if you need me. I don’t have to be in the school to have a constant contact, you know,” Merlin said empathically, because he had no desire to deal with teenagers and paperwork in addition to the mess they already have on their hands _._ “What’s more, have you thought about all the time I would waste in class that I could devote to Horcrux hunting or preparations for a damn _impending magical war?_ Or the fact that I’m not much of a teacher?”

“You did just fine with me and previous apprentices you took in. I think you’ll manage splendidly.” Albus’s even voice only spiked Merlin more. Why couldn’t he see how absurd the idea was?

“That was different. You just were really set on the mission to pester me since the first time we met. I literarily had to hide from you sometimes, such an irritating little bugger you were. Not that much has changed really.” Merlin glared at the softly smiling, wrinkled face of his friends. When have all these years passed…? Oh no, he won’t let himself be played on emotions and sentiment. “Teaching a bunch of random kids is different and you know it!”

“Only slightly and for someone with your experience and knowledge it won’t be a problem.”

“Yeah? What about my appearance then? I look not even ten years older from the eldest students here. Working as a Professor at such young age would definitely bring some attention to me, which is exactly what you and I would like to avoid, isn’t it?” Merlin tried the last desperate card he could pull out of his sleeve.

“You’ll just made yourself older. Don’t deny it – I witnessed some of your age manipulating magic, I know you’re capable of it!” Albus countered easily, shutting his incoming protest.

“Doesn’t mean I wish to uphold it for a whole school year or more, thank you very much,” Merlin grumbled, crossing his arms. “And I will be on radar all the time, contrary to what you believe. New teacher will be a talk not only among the staff but also every student too. And I don’t know if you noticed but my magic isn’t really the definition of ‘normal’. How am I supposed to teach these children if I can’t show them everything, practice with them or relate to their experiences and _not_ draw any attention? Impossible.”

The contemplative expression on the Headmaster’s face gave Merlin some hope that at least once in his life he’ll see the warlock’s reasoning and reconsider this _proposition_. It would be better for all of them, even if it meant a bit of sneaking around the castle unnoticed. It won’t be a first for him anyway. But then Dumbledore spoke again.

“I get your point, I really do but you see… I want you here not only for easy communication. Dark times are ahead of us and the school will have to guarantee safety for everyone here. I know of no one else to better make sure of that than you, Master Emrys.”

“Hey, you’re a powerful wizard yourself, they all put their trust in you not without reason, you know.” It was Merlin’s turn to give his friend a soft, encouraging look. “You’re a good, smart man and you did great work so far keeping them safe.”

“In the last years we rather had some serious problems actually.”

“No one’s perfect.”

A comfortable silence fell for a while after that. They both considered each other words, trying to come up with a satisfactory solution.

“There’s also one more thing…” Albus started again some time later.

“Only one?” Merlin asked lightly, trying to lift the mood. Mission accomplished, if Dumbledore’s chuckle was any indicator.

“For now, yes. I suspect that one of the Horcruxes may be hidden in Hogwarts itself. No idea where or what it exactly could be, but I was working on a theory for some time and it’s at least probable. With you working here, you’ll have an almost full access to the castle and school premises. No one would question your presence or your actions.”

“But a teacher, Albus? It’s too time-consuming, too obliging… I can agree on finding some work in the school but let’s compromise at least.” Merlin won’t ever admit that it came more out like a whine than an objection.

“So what do you propose then?”

“I don’t know, a stable boy?”

“…we don’t have stables anymore, Emrys. Not for a few centuries at least…”

“Oh right, sorry, my bad. Then a kitchen help maybe?”

“You? A kitchen help? Anyway not possible, all the domestic chores are done by the house elves and they would see any kind of help as an insult to-“

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Can almost relate,” Merlin murmured the last part to himself, remembering his own reluctance to put Arthur under anyone else’s care for too long. Pure security reasons, honest.

“And I won’t be cruel enough to put you under Mr Filch’s… care.”

“I won’t even ask.” The warlock shook his head, trying to clear it and think with some idea up at the same time. What would be a good enough cover, that would provide him with mobility and time needed for his activities and would also hide him in plain site from students, some staff and especially – Death Eaters and the Ministry…?

And then it struck him. Of _course –_ that would be perfect! Especially since the honourable Mr Minister had come up with it in the first place. He turned to Albus with a scheming grin plastered on his face.

“Hey, Dumbledore. Wouldn’t you like to have an assistant?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so... I know it's been faaar too long since the last update. I really don't have any excuse apart from that the midterm exams are like Kilgharrah's advice - irritating, hard to get through and usually not that needed ;)
> 
> But I hoped to bribe you with the longest chapter so far at least. To straighten up a few things - I planned in this chapter to include the meeting of Merlin and the Golden Trio, which would fit with the ending of the last one but it just got so big! I have no idea how it grew so much, but I thought adding another segment would be too much. So we will start with catching up with the timeline in the next chapter. I really hope it's not too confusing right now :D
> 
> Anyway, I'm so sorry for the delay and thank you for being here and for all the kind and insightful comments! I really appreciate them and will try to catch up with them now too.
> 
> Lots of love and see you next time!


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